


Incalescent

by FebruarySong



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 73,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6744187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FebruarySong/pseuds/FebruarySong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lisbet and her brother accidentally discovered dangerous information about the Emperor, they fled from Coruscant to distant Tatooine to escape being found out. Lisbet thinks that her life is over on the barren planet, until she meets a stranger who lives in the Wastes -- and she learns that maybe Tatooine is a place for beginnings, too. Post-RotS, Obi-Wan/OC</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. dépaysement

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my fic! I'm so excited that you're here, and I hope you enjoy your stay. :)

"Hurry," Gareth hissed, shoving what seemed like anything he could reach into his pack. Their entire life had changed in the instant it took for a shuttle to explode, but when Lisbet saw him reach for her Ladyship's jewels, she stretched a hand out to stop him.

"Gareth, we can't," she said, half a sob and half an appeal. "We can't just steal their things."

Her brother's face softened a measure when he saw her distress. "They don't care, Lisbet. They're dead."

"I know," she said. "But it seems wrong."

"We need the jewels to sell or trade for transport," he reasoned as he pushed them all the way to the bottom of the bag. "It isn't cheap, flying all the way to the Rim."

Lisbet put a hand to her spinning head. This was all happening so fast, and her judgment was clouded by grief and shock. "Can't we just go home?"

"And bring the danger there with us?" Gareth paused again and looked her in the eye, as if to impress upon her the importance of what he was saying. "Lisbet, we were meant to be in that shuttle with the rest of the Senator's household. If the Emperor finds out that we survived - or worse, what we know - he won't hesitate to finish the job. Hells, he would probably put the blame on _us_."

"But if people knew that he ordered the Senator's assassination, maybe it would weaken his hold," Lisbet said, even though she knew it was impossible. It had been five months since Chancellor Palpatine had reformed the Republic into the Galactic Empire, styling himself as the _Emperor_ as the war drew to an abrupt end. Already his power had grown to the point that everyone was terrified to oppose him - with good reason. Senator Tibirian had spoken against the Emperor's motives once, and three days later he and nearly his entire household had burned in a "shuttle accident."

And now Lisbet and her brother were rifling through their former employer's apartments, looking for trinkets to barter in exchange for escape.

"It wouldn't change anything," Gareth echoed her thoughts. "It would only make us dead. Better for us to disappear and never give anyone in the Empire a reason to think of us again."

"Where will we go?" she asked, finally picking up one of the bags he had brought but not quite ready to start packing it.

"Do you remember grandfather's cousin, Warwick? We were very young when he left for Tatooine."

" _Tatooine_ ," Lisbet breathed. "That's far."

"I know," Gareth said, his face an apology. "But we can disappear there. Now hurry, go to your quarters and pack light. I'll finish up here."

Lisbet took a steadying breath, steeling her resolve. Even if they had to spend some time on Tatooine until the danger passed, surely it didn't mean permanent exile. Perhaps after a year or two, all would be forgotten and they would go home. She could do this.

"Will we be able to find transport with such little notice?" she asked.

"There are always ships coming and going," he replied. "We'll book the first leg in the wrong direction and then change ships at the next port. It will be impossible to track us, if they somehow find out we're alive." She nodded in agreement with his logic and headed out the door. "Lis," Gareth called before she had completely gone. "Better change into your plainest dress. Once we leave Coruscant, you won't be one of her Ladyship's handmaidens anymore."

Lisbet didn't trust herself to speak, so she nodded again as she turned away to hide her reddening eyes, and wondered how she could just pack up an entire life and disappear.

* * *

_Two Months Later_

Lisbet pressed a fist into the small of her aching back, trying to massage out some of the tension. Sitting at the loom all day was tiring work, but it was better than walking back and forth again and again to feed the spindle when Oona spun thread. And _that_ was better than the backbreaking work she and Gareth had done in Mos Eisley when they first arrived on Tatooine.

It was only late morning, before the worst of the day's heat. Lisbet had quickly learned the Oona liked to start work early while the rest of Anchorhead was still sleeping. It meant they could take breaks or finish early, which was a welcome respite from the tedium of weaving.

Footsteps from the cellar stairs sent Lisbet's hands back to the loom so that Oona wouldn't think she was slacking. A silvery white head of hair appeared in the stairwell as the weaver slowly came up, accompanied by her quiet sounds of effort at the task.

"Come to the market with me, girl," Oona said as she took the last few steps. Helping haul groceries wasn't technically part of her job description, but Lisbet was stronger than the wizened old woman, and Oona sometimes shared luncheon from her own pantry when Lisbet's packed meal didn't meet her standards. So she didn't mind, and it was a good excuse to go out and stretch her legs.

"Coming," Lisbet said as she reached for a headscarf and looped it around her neck.

Oona gave her a disapproving look and made a _tusk tusk_ noise as soon as she saw what Lisbet was doing. "You might as well give up, girl. That scarf will shade your skin no more than the sky will give us rain, especially when your nose is already red."

Lisbet reached up to touch the tip of her nose, even though she knew Oona was right. She was so pale that she burned quickly, and the double suns on Tatooine only made it worse. It didn't even turn into a tan, either - just a constellation of freckles overtop even fairer skin after the burn peeled. "Maybe I should try a hat," Lisbet wondered aloud.

Oona pushed a shallow basket into her hands with a _harrumph_. "I suppose you're too pretty to be clever, but I thought everyone knew that the sunlight reflects up from the sand. A hat would hardly help you, either."

"Oh," Lisbet muttered. She didn't bother reminding Oona that neither Coruscant nor her homeworld had much sand, so there was no way she could know. Still, she folded an edge of the headscarf under her eyes and wound the rest over her coppery hair. At least it would keep the dust from choking her if it was windy today.

As always, the suns dazzled her vision as soon as they stepped out the door of Oona's workshop. Lisbet balanced the basket on her hip so that she could bring a hand up to shield her eyes. The marketplace was all the way across town, laid out in a sprawling maze beside Tosche Station. Not that it was very far away - Anchorhead was fairly small.

"We'll check on Solstice while we're there," Oona decided. She had a distinct rhythm of walking, sure but slow, and Lisbet fell into her shadow. Solstice was Oona's young niece, who minded the little fabric stall in the marketplace twice a week now that she was too pregnant to be much help with weaving and spinning.

They left the relatively closed in residential area, where the clay huts provided some shade and shelter from the wind, and entered the much more open market. Lisbet considered the stalls there as _ramshackle_ , though she would never say the word aloud. The vendors were all kind, and few had given her and Gareth small tokens of welcome when they arrived almost five weeks ago.

Oona was as decisive in shopping as in all things, so they quickly filled the basket in Lisbet's arms and then cut a deliberate line toward the fabric booth. Solstice greeted them with a smile as they drew near.

"Good morning, Auntie!" she said in her sing-song voice. "And sweet Lissy, too. Forgive me for not standing, but my ankles are a sight to see in this heat. Come soon, baby!" She addressed the last to her round stomach.

"I think your belly has gotten even bigger since I saw you last," Lisbet smiled in reply, transferring most of the now-heavy basket's weight onto the counter. "Are you sure you're not farther than seven months along?"

"Maybe it's twins," Solstice laughed, her glossy black hair shimmering in the sunlight as she moved.

Oona was poking through the bolts of fabric. "Had any sales today?"

"Three yards of muslin to Rhyssa, but that's all, Auntie," Solstice said. "Although Sevrina asked if you could spin more purples, she wants a new skirt and you know how picky she is with colours."

Lisbet let her thoughts drift away from their shoptalk. She liked to watch the gentle bustle in the marketplace, especially at this time of day when it was busiest. She didn't really feel like she belonged here yet, but she couldn't deny that she was surprised by how kind the people of Anchorhead were. After the the misery of Mos Eisley when she and Gareth had first arrived, this was a refuge.

Her wandering attention was drawn to a man a couple of stalls down. The first thing she noticed about him was his voice - or rather, his accent. He was speaking to the fruit merchant, and Lisbet hadn't heard such clean, cultured inflections since…

Coruscant.

A sliver of unease knifed through her as she instinctively slid further behind the stall's drapery to conceal herself. Surely he wasn't from the Empire, sent to spy on her and Gareth?

She risked a peek at him, glad that her scarf hid most of her face. The man wore a long cloak of dark brown that covered what looked like simple, roughspun clothes beneath. His neatly trimmed beard was a sharp contrast to the unruly hair on his head, which wasn't helped by the wind carding through it and ruffling it into his face. He swept it back with his hand, but a second later the wind had it again. Even at the distance, Lisbet could see the brilliant blue of his eyes and how expressive they were.

She turned to look for Oona, since the old weaver seemed to know everybody in Anchorhead. But the only ones in the fabric stall were Solstice and a customer, who was looking dubiously at a length of orange linen. "Where did…?" Lisbet asked, shooting Solstice a confused look. Oona had been right there, and she wasn't known for moving particularly fast.

"Oh, she's talking to-" Solstice paused for a second, "well, I forgot his name."

"Who?" Lisbet was still scanning the immediate area for her.

" _Him_ ," Solstice nodded in the direction of the man with the blue eyes and accent. "Isn't he _handsome_?"

"I hadn't noticed," Lisbet replied, a fresh wave of anxiety sweeping down her spine as she peered around the drapery again. Sure enough, Oona was chatting to the man, looking much more animated than Lisbet had ever seen her.

"You hadn't _noticed_ ," Solstice scoffed with a delightedly scandalized look on her face. "Why, if I hadn't already wedded and bedded my husband, I would give Auntie a run for her credits."

Lisbet just made a vague agreeing sound, too distracted by fear to give Solstice's words much thought. Oona didn't even know that she and Gareth had come from Coruscant, much less _why_ they had left the Inner Rim at all. But if this man really was an investigator from the capitol, he probably knew the right questions to get her talking.

"Excuse me," she said to Solstice as she gathered up her basket and checked the folds of her headscarf, just to be sure it wouldn't slip out of place.

" _Oooo_ ," Solstice crowed, clearly misinterpreting Lisbet's intentions. "Sweet Lissy means to catch herself a bachelor."

"Hush, you," Lisbet threw over her shoulder, keeping her tone playful despite her tense mood. She didn't particularly like Solstice's nickname for her, but she knew it was kindly meant and there was no point in alienating a potential ally.

The pit of her stomach hollowed as she drew closer to Oona and the stranger. The weaver woman was doing most of the talking while the man nodded occasionally at her words, and Lisbet was so afraid that she forgot all about her deeply ingrained handmaiden etiquette and interrupted them the moment she was close enough to speak.

"Are you ready to go back to the shop, Oona? I thought we might take an early lunch." The words poured out of her in a tumble, and Lisbet felt the full weight of their rudeness, wishing she wasn't so panicky.

Oona fixed her with an astonished scowl, either shocked by Lisbet's uncharacteristically bad manners or resentful of the interruption itself. "In a moment, girl - if your hungry belly can bear the wait."

"Yes, of course," Lisbet wilted.

"Ben, this is my new apprentice," Oona said, turning back to the stranger. "I found her in Mos Eisley last month, scrubbing floors in Jabba's townhouse."

"Pleased to meet you," the man - Ben - said with a gracious incline of his head.

Lisbet hastily returned the gesture with something that might have passed for a curtsey, although she wore trousers instead of a skirt. Now that she was really looking at him, she realized that Solstice had been right; he _was_ handsome. The realization, coupled with her unresolved anxiety, made her feel much younger than her age.

Meanwhile, Oona was chattering on. "She and her brother came to Tatooine looking for their great-uncle or some such relation - what was it again, girl?"

"My grandfather's cousin," Lisbet reluctantly supplied, trying to telegraph for Oona to _please stop_.

The old weaver wasn't having any of it. "Oh yes. They came all this way to find him, only to learn he'd died some years ago and left monstrous debts to the Hutts."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ben murmured.

"I'm sure our misfortunes are of little interest to your friend," Lisbet tried to draw Oona away again, angling her body back toward the shop in the hopes that it would influence her to begin moving.

"Nonsense, child," Oona waved the suggestion away and continued her story without missing a beat. "Of course, Jabba conscripted them into his staff, to work until they paid off the debt. This one," - she jerked a thumb at Lisbet - "was dressed as a boy, all covered in filth and ill-fitting clothes."

Ben made a politely interested facial expression, and it suddenly occurred to Lisbet that he seemed as eager for the conversation to end as she was, except he was _much_ better at concealing it from Oona. She decided to change tactics and speed up the process, since Oona seemed so bent on getting the whole story out.

"The deception was my brother's idea," she explained, "when we first landed in Mos Eisley. It seemed better than the alternative."

"That was a wise choice," Ben said, and the earnest look in his eyes made something flutter low in the pit of her stomach. She was almost relieved when he turned back to Oona. "How did you perceive the ruse?"

"Her hands," the weaver replied smugly, grabbing Lisbet's wrist and raising it, as if to prove her point. "No boy would have fingers like that, especially a servant."

"Oona convinced Jabba that we could repay the debt more quickly if we came to work here with higher wages," Lisbet said as she pulled her hand away under the pretext of adjusting the basket on her hip.

"I needed someone to help with my work, since my niece is too fat with child to be much help anymore," Oona sniffed, although the words were tinged with fondness. The finger she poked in Lisbet's ribs wasn't very gentle, though. "Don't even _think_ about getting pregnant, girl."

"I _won't_ ," Lisbet ground out, hating herself for feeling so embarrassed in front of this man.

The wind was ruffling his hair again, and he swept a hand through it in another futile attempt to keep it out of his eyes. There was something in his expression that might have been amusement - just a tinge, and well-hidden at that. It was so subtle that she wondered if she'd seen it at all.

"I sent the girl's brother to work as a farmhand for Kairon," Oona said, then fixed Ben with a pointed look. "My brother always needs good, strong men to help with the work."

But Ben only bowed again, clearly signalling that the conversation was at an end. "Thank you for the renewed offer, Oona, but I would make a poor moisture farmer. And now if you'll excuse me, I really must be going."

"Oh, won't you have lunch with us?" Oona said.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid I don't have the time." Ben swept up her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles in a formal goodbye, which apparently rendered Oona completely speechless, since she only gaped in open-mouth astonishment while Ben nodded to Lisbet, said "It was a pleasure to meet you," and walked away.

Lisbet looked between the weaver woman and Ben's retreating back as Oona stared after him. After a moment, she asked, "Are you alright?"

"That man is a scoundrel," Oona said, rousing herself, in a tone that suggested she liked scoundrels very, very much. "Come on. Let's go eat."

Lisbet fell into into step beside her as they headed back to the shop. "Has he been in Anchorhead long? I don't remember seeing him before."

"You wouldn't have," Oona grunted, putting a hand on Lisbet's elbow to steady her tired feet. "He showed up about six or seven months ago, lives out in the Jundland Wastes. He only comes to town once a month, to gather supplies I suppose. Although I saw him in Mos Eisley once at a cantina."

 _Six or seven months ago_ , Lisbet thought in relief. There was no way he was there to investigate them, then. "Do you know why he came to Tatooine?"

"Keeps to himself, that one," Oona said. Then she narrowed her eyes at Lisbet. "Don't you get any ideas in your head, girl. I saw him first."

Once again, Lisbet was glad most of her face was concealed by the scarf, although this time it was to hide her smile. "He's all yours."

But she couldn't help but wonder about him, why a man who was clearly educated and intelligent, from an Inner Rim world, would come to live in the wastelands of a barren planet. Maybe he had a secret, too.

* * *

**dépaysement,** ( _n., French_ ), when someone is taken from their own familiar world into a new one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Amelia for being a powerhouse of encouragement and problem-solving, and shout-out to everyone else who has sent love along the way. :) This fic will be updated every two weeks.


	2. appetence

"I met someone from Coruscant today," Lisbet called to her brother from the kitchen where she was seasoning their supper. "At least - I think he was from Coruscant. He sounded like it."

Gareth poked his head through the doorframe, wild mahogany curls framing his concerned face. "You don't think-?"

"No," she hurried to reassure him. "Oona says he's been here much longer than we have. He lives out in the Jundland Wastes."

"Really?" Gareth's nose wrinkled in mingled distaste and confusion as he disappeared again. "Why would anyone live out there? Nothing but snakes and Sand People."

"Is it very dangerous, the Waste?" Lisbet moved on to slicing the bread she'd baked in the sun-oven that afternoon. This was the rhythm that their evenings had fallen into - talking as they finished their nightly chores, then sharing a meal.

"I wouldn't be caught out there after dark," Gareth said. "Did he say why he came to Tatooine?"

"He didn't say much at all." Lisbet absently set two dishes at their small dining table, thinking of Ben's eyes and ghost of a smile.

Her brother reappeared in the kitchen, wearing a clean shirt now. "Smells good, Lis," he said as he transferred the steaming dish of stew to the table.

"I'm learning," she grinned, knowing that he was also remembering some of the disastrous meals they'd both attempted to prepare the first couple of weeks on their own. Working in the Senator's household had taught them many skills, but cooking wasn't one of them.

They sat down to their simple dinner, glad to rest and be still after a day of hard work. Gareth seemed to have forgotten all about the stranger from Coruscant, and Lisbet was content to let the subject drop.

"How is the farm?" she asked instead.

A mournful look passed over her brother's features as his spoon settled glumly in his bowl. "I'm not much of a farmhand, Lis."

"I'm not much of a weaver," she retorted. "It'll come. What is Kairon's crop to be this cycle?"

"Bloddle, whatever that is," Gareth picked his spoon back up, dejection seemingly forgotten. "I only just missed the planting when we arrived, and the sproutlings are already knee high. It's _incredible_ what they can do with agriculture here, Lis. The whole planet is made from the contents of a dustbin, and they've still found a way to grow underground. Kairon told me that…"

Lisbet hid a private smile, letting him ramble. Gareth was used to things coming easily to him, so when he said that he wasn't a farmhand it only meant that he wasn't perfect at it straight away. He loved learning, and this was clearly no different.

Once they had eaten and started to clean up, Gareth shook himself as if remembering something. "Say, do you mind cutting this shaggy mop of mine? It's gotten long."

"Sure," she replied as she scraped the leavings from her bowl into the composter. They were only just getting started, but Oona had assured them that eventually they would have enough finished compost to help sustain a few fledgling plants. "Let me find my shears."

Their little house wasn't much more than a few cramped rooms, so Gareth took a kitchen chair outside the back door since it would be easier to clean-up there, anyway. One of the suns had set, but the other lingered on the horizon. Lisbet shivered a little as she followed him out into the cooling air.

There was a soothing ritual in cutting hair, in settling the drape over someone's shoulders and trimming away what was no longer needed or wanted. Lisbet had been the hairdresser for all of Senator Tibirian's household, and this was the first time she had cut anyone's hair since fleeing the capital. Suddenly, it wasn't soothing at all.

"Alright?" Gareth asked when he felt her hands still at the crown of his head.

She looked at the length of his curling hair between her fingers, pulling herself away from the sudden onslaught of memories. "Alright," she echoed as she resumed her work. "I was just remembering."

He knew better than to nod while her scissors were so close to his ear, but she knew he understood what she hadn't spoken aloud. They passed a moment in silence except for the soft snipping of her shears.

"I was thinking, Lis," Gareth began, his tone serious. "Maybe we shouldn't talk to the man from Coruscant. He can't be quite right if he's exiled himself to the Jundland Wastes."

Lisbet frowned at his sideburn, which was she carefully trimming. She'd had no intentions of deliberately befriending Ben, so she wasn't sure why the request _not_ to made her feel defensive. "I don't think it will come up at all," she settled on saying. "Oona told me that he hardly comes into Anchorhead. We probably won't see him for quite a while."

"More's the better," her brother said. "I suppose he's harmless if he keeps to himself."

Lisbet brushed the bulk of the fallen hair trimmings from his shoulders before taking the drape off. "There - you're as good as new."

"Thanks," he said as he stood and picked up the chair. "Coming in?"

"In a minute," she replied. Twilight was her favourite time of day, especially here on this planet of extremes. Poised between the sweltering heat of day and night-time's chill, when the fading sunlight sent streaks of purpling dusk across an otherwise unforgiving sky - she loved it, and their little house at the very edge of town had the best views.

Gareth lingered inside the doorway for a moment, probably wishing she wouldn't stay outside and brood when the memories of home had come so close to the surface a few moments ago. Lisbet curved a half-smile at him so that he wouldn't worry, and he flashed one in return as he closed the door behind him.

She turned to watch the sunset.

* * *

Lisbet precariously balanced the bolts of cloth in her arms as she shut the door to Oona's workshop behind her. She really should have put all the fabric into the little grav-cart that they kept for that purpose, but the repulsor modulator was starting to short out and she didn't feel like fighting it all the way to the marketplace. As it was, her arms were so full that she had to crane her neck at an awkward angle to see ahead.

She realized too late that she hadn't put on her headscarf. She tried to free a hand to pull it over her face, since she already had a particularly bad burn and the midday suns would only make it worse. But it was impossible to hold everything with one arm - she would have to wait until she got to the fabric stall.

Despite not being able to see her feet, she made it all the way to the fringes of the marketplace without incident. By then her arms ached and she tried to speed up her pace as she dodged the people around her. Why Oona had sent her to replenish the stall's fabric supply at the busiest time of day was beyond her.

Someone bumped into her shoulder hard enough for her to lose her balance, sending the bolts of cloth into a heap on the ground. The only thing that kept Lisbet from tumbling after them was a hand on her elbow to steady her.

"I'm so sorry," a familiarly accented voice said, and she looked up into crystalline blue eyes under brows furrowed by contrition.

"Oh," she said, finding to her dismay that her tongue wasn't quite working properly. She knelt down, both to pick up the fabric and to cover her confusion. Hadn't Oona said that Ben only came to town every month or two? And yet here he was, just ten days after she had met him.

"That was terribly clumsy of me," he said as he went to a knee next to her. "Please let me help you."

"I wasn't watching where I was going, either," Lisbet finally found her voice. Most of the fabrics had come half-unfolded from their neat bundles when they hit the ground, so she carefully refolded each one and then stacked them on her lap out of the dust.

Beside her, Ben was doing the same. "You can hardly be blamed, carrying a burden like this."

"In that case, it was entirely your fault," Lisbet grinned at him. A shadow of a smirk on his face answered her, but she was beginning to suspect that this man wasn't easily given to merriment.

"You must be Oona's apprentice," he said. "I'm afraid she neglected to mention your name when we met the other day."

"Lisbet Irimore," she replied, folding the last fallen cloth. The stack was pretty evenly divided between them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Irimore." Ben extended a hand to help her stand.

She took it. "Please call me Lisbet - I don't like the _Miss_. Um, thank you for your help, Ben. I think I can manage-"

"Oh no," he said, twisting away from her reaching hand as she tried to take his share of the fabric. "The least I can do is help you carry this to your destination."

"It's only just through the market," Lisbet protested. "I don't want to inconvenience you."

"It's hardly an inconvenience, since I am on my way to Tosche Station as it is," he said, and now he did smile. It was a disarming smile, one that made his eyes crinkle and revealed a pair of indentations in both cheeks.

_Oh no_ , Lisbet thought, momentarily struck dumb as her heart somehow sank and soared in equal measure. _He has dimples._

"Well," she said, swallowing. "Alright. I'm just on my way to restock the fabric stall," she felt the need to clarify as Ben fell into step next to her. "Apparently this is a busy market day."

"Hmm," he said noncommittally.

"So, do you come into town often?" she asked, deciding that it was probably best to pretend that she and Oona _hadn't_ talked about him already.

"That depends on your point of view," he said, and there was the smile again - except this time it was a little sad. The melancholy didn't last long on his face, though, as he returned her gaze with an arched brow and a twinkle. "I take it you prefer not to come outside often?"

She touched her sunburned skin with a rueful laugh. "I'm not used to the sunlight here. We don't get nearly as much exposure back home."

"Where are you from?"

He asked it so naturally that she _almost_ answered without hesitation, until she remembered Gareth's distrust of the stranger from Coruscant. But surely Ben had heard strains of the Inner Rim in her own accent and was curious about someone else so far away from home. And if he really wanted to find out more about them, he could simply ask Oona. Wasn't it better to control what information he knew?

"Hosnian Prime," she said after a split second. It was the truth, and there was no need for him to know that she and Gareth had worked on Coruscant before coming here to Tatooine.

By then they had already passed through much of the market and nearly arrived at the fabric stall, and their conversation was cut short by Solstice's relieved gasp when Lisbet and Ben appeared.

"Lissy! Thank the stars you're here. This baby has been grinding his heels into my bladder for the last hour at least. Mind the stall, would you? I'm just going to pop into the cantina, won't be gone for more than a minute!" She clasped Lisbet's free hand in passing before bolting away.

Lisbet plunked her pile of fabric down on the counter, which wasn't much more than a few boards nailed to rickety legs. At least the stall had a roughspun canopy overhead, and she was finally out of the blistering suns. "Thank you again for your help," she said as Ben deposited his own bundle next to hers.

"It was no trouble at all," he said, lingering in the shaded stall, his hands going into opposite sleeves of his brown cloak. "Would you consider it rude of me if I asked why you left Hosnian Prime?"

"Our parents died," Lisbet said bluntly. That was technically true, too - except they had been orphaned almost twenty years ago, and their grandparents had taken them in at the time. Still, she and Gareth had agreed that the most convincing lie had more than a grain of truth to it, and built their story from there. "And my brother lost his job. We didn't have anywhere else to go, really. We thought Warwick would be able to help us, little knowing what we were walking into."

"I'm sorry," Ben replied, his eyes grave. "That cannot have been easy."

"I hated it at first," she confessed as she began sorting the fabrics they'd brought so that she could put them into their proper places. "But the people in this town are kind and I like the work I'm doing. I won't say that I love Tatooine, but it's not so bad. Well," she amended with another experimental pat to her sensitive cheek, "everything except the suns."

She was rewarded with his dimples again, which called an answering smile to her face. Lisbet decided that she had been wrong about his eyes the first time they met, when she thought they were as blue as the cloudless sky. Now they were pale green, like the seafoam at the shores of the Great Western Sea. Maybe they changed colour according to the light.

"Why did you leave?" she gambled, remembering how Oona said he kept his reasons to himself. But it was only fair for him to return the favour after she had explained herself, even if she had given him only half-truths.

"I was a pilot for the Republic in the war," he replied with a twisting of his lips that was half wry, half sad. "So was my brother. We served together until he died, and - well. Tatooine is as far from Coruscant as possible, without going into the Unknown Regions."

Lisbet thought of Gareth, her greatest constant and friend. Just the idea of losing him made her throat constrict. "I'm so sorry," she said, wishing, however absurdly, that she could reach out to touch Ben in comfort. There was something suspiciously like tears in her eyes, but she wasn't sure if it was out of sympathy for him or at the thought of her own brother dying. But she hated crying in front of people, so she went back to restacking the fabric.

"Were the debts left by your relative very great?" Ben asked gently.

"Enough to cripple us for a time," Lisbet replied, grateful that he had steered the conversation into somewhat less emotionally charged waters. "We spent most of our savings on transport to the planet, and of course Jabba seized what was left shortly after we arrived. Once we repay the debt, I think we'll begin saving to go back home."

"Back home?" Solstice chose this moment to reappear, latching onto Lisbet's arms with a frown. "Don't let Auntie hear you talking that way. What would she do without you? Oh! Hello, Ben."

"Good afternoon," he said.

"What brings you into town today?" Solstice asked as she surreptitiously drove an elbow into Lisbet's ribs. Lisbet was pretty sure she intended it as a secret signal, but what it meant was completely beyond her.

"I am headed to Tosche Station," Ben replied. "And I should be be on my way. I hope you ladies have a pleasant day."

"You too," Solstice said, a wicked half-smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I'll tell Auntie that you sent your regards."

"Ah," Ben replied with the very slightest shadow of a pained expression on his face as he bowed. "Thank you. Good day."

"Good day," Lisbet echoed to his back as he walked away. She quirked a brow toward her friend, who was now fully grinning. "What was _that?_ "

"Auntie would eat him alive if she could," Solstice beamed. "He's difficult to read, but even I can tell that it mortifies him. Can you even imagine?"

Solstice had already started giggling, and the mental image of Oona wooing and winning the handsome stranger brought an involuntary grin to Lisbet's face.

"Oh _Ben_ ," Solstice said in a seductive whisper, except it was a pitch-perfect imitation of Oona's gruff rasp.

"No," Lisbet said, trying to choke the mutinous laughter back down.

"Oh Ben, _ravish_ me," Solstice continued, warming to the concept even as her impersonation was interrupted by her own fits of giggles. "Make me a _woman_. I want you to touch every _inch_ of my body." She switched back to her normal voice with a pause to catch her breath. "Meanwhile, Ben is backing away, politely looking for a means of escape."

Lisbet clamped a hand over her mouth to better suppress her mirth. " _Stop_ ," she begged, the mental image growing more vivid by the second. "She's been so good to me, I shouldn't laugh!"

This only made Solstice laugh harder, and after a moment Lisbet caved and joined in, too. "Oh, Lissy!" Solstice said, wiping tears from her lashes. "I'm glad Auntie found you in Mos Eisley. You're a gem. Although you can't be happy about all this sunlight!" Her palms, miraculously cool, came up to frame Lisbet's face. "How did you ever come by such a burn?"

"I wasn't even outside for very long," Lisbet sighed. "Oona sun-bleached some of the muslins in the backyard and I went to collect them. It seems like I only have to think about the suns, and I crisp up."

"Better be careful," Solstice said, "or you'll soon have skin like a Hutt. _Ohhhh_ , this baby just punched me in the kidneys. I shouldn't have laughed so much." She grabbed Lisbet's hand, pressing it over her round belly. "Feel! He's kicking."

Lisbet couldn't suppress a smile again, this time in wonder at the little life under her palm. "Do you think it will be a boy?"

"Yes. I like to believe it's a mother's intuition," Solstice replied, thoughtfully sketching the shape of a heart with her fingertips around where the baby had kicked last. Then her face broke into a grin. "Wouldn't I look silly if it's a girl after all? As long as it's healthy and sweet and loves me, I don't care."

"I'm sure he will," Lisbet said, squeezing her friend's arm. "But I should probably go. Oona will be wondering what's taken me so long."

Solstice wiggled her eyebrows with a sly smirk. "I won't tell her that you were talking to her boyfriend."

"You're an angel," Lisbet said wryly, and then was obliged to submit to Solstice tugging her headscarf into place.

"Stay out of the suns," she charged her sternly. "You're as red as a Zeltron already."

"Yes, ma'am," Lisbet replied. Solstice was several years younger, but she had two little sisters, which gave her a certain combination of authoritative and nurturing. Plus, Lisbet privately wondered if pregnancy had made her a little extra maternal.

"Al _though_ ," Solstice mused. "Aren't Zeltrons quite a sultry folk? Perhaps we can work with this. I'll just call Ben back..."

"I'm going back to work," Lisbet said, summoning an extremely prim attitude as she tucked the last fold of her scarf into place. "If you'll excuse me."

"You never know," Solstice called after her as she turned away and stepped into the harsh glare of the sunlight. "He might _like_ that kind of thing!"

"Good day," Lisbet tossed over her shoulder.

Her friend replied only with laughter. Shaking her head with a fond smile, Lisbet hurried back to Oona's workshop, and tried not to think of her hand in Ben's when he had helped her up.

* * *

**appetence,** _(n., English)_ , an instinctive inclination or attraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear what y'all think! :)


	3. tcaj

"Lis," Gareth asked, shrugging his duster over his head in preparation to head out the door. "Would it bother if you if I stayed nights at the farm sometimes?"

She considered what her brother said as she got ready to leave, too. "Why would you need to?"

"It'll be harvest time soon," he explained. "Kairon will pay me extra if I sleep at the farm a couple times a week, on backup guard duty. Apparently the Sand People raid farms when the crops are in season."

"Is it dangerous?" Lisbet folded her headscarf around her neck, looking up at her brother.

He grinned in that easy way of his, the way that meant he had already weighed the risks. "Everything on this star-forsaken planet is dangerous, Lis."

"Not everything," she countered.

"Well, nearly everything, then," Gareth replied, sobering. "But that's why I'm asking you about this. I hate to leave you here alone, especially overnight."

"It sounds like you would be in greater mortal peril out on the farm than I'll ever be here in town," Lisbet said, half joking to cover how real her concern was.

"Which is exactly why I hate that you wouldn't be there to protect me," her brother replied with an overly grave face.

She punched his arm. "Be serious."

"Alright," he conceded, absently rubbing his new injury. "I haven't seen so much as a trace of Sand People in the three months that we've been here. I don't doubt that they're real, but I wonder how much of a danger they actually are."

"Oona said they took a woman about four years ago," Lisbet said soberly. "I can't remember which farm. But all the neighbors searched for her, and many of the men were killed. It isn't like you to underestimate a potential threat."

"I'm not. Kairon told me about the woman who was taken and where it happened. That was a much smaller homestead, closer to the Wastes. And since then the Sand People have been much quieter." Gareth paused to really look at her, concern in his dark eyes. "Are you more worried about being left alone, or about me being out in the desert?"

"Can't it be both?" she replied with a wan smile.

"I won't do it if you think it's a bad idea," he said. "I trust your instincts."

Lisbet thought about it, picking up her bundle of lunch and handing Gareth his. "It wouldn't be every night?"

"We talked about splitting the week with Oram," he replied, referring to another farmhand. "So I would take three or four nights, and he the others."

"If you're _careful_ ," she pointed a stern finger at him, "I agree with this plan. The sooner we pay down our debts, the better."

"Not _our_ debts," he said sourly.

"Try telling that to Jabba's collectors," Lisbet said, moving toward the front door. "I'd better get going, or I'll be late. Oona is worried enough about filling the shipment next month without me giving her any more reason to fret."

"You like that old biddy, don't you," Gareth grinned.

"I'd like to see how well all your self-defense training held up if you called her an _old biddy_ to her face," Lisbet retorted. "And yes, I do happen to like her. She's gruff and wild, but she didn't have to give us jobs. I think she's secretly kind under all that durasteel."

"I'm glad, Lis," her brother said. "I'm glad we're not in Mos Eisley anymore, and that we're alright."

"So am I," she smiled. "And now you'd better get going too, or we'll both be late. Have a good day."

"You too." He bent down to press a quick kiss to her cheek, and they parted ways - he out the back to take the speed-bike out to Kairon's farm, and she to the front door to head to the weaving shop.

* * *

"I'm going to look in on Solstice, girl," Oona growled as she pushed herself up from one of the looms. "My eyes need a break from threads and patterns for awhile."

"Is she alright?" Lisbet asked. Anchorhead was so small that there were no official midwives, or even a doctor in town. But the older women, Oona included, had delivered every baby born in a radius of fifty klicks, and knew more about pregnancy and childbirth than most medical droids.

"She's fine," Oona said, waving a knotted hand to dismiss the idea. "Though she won't stop complaining about the heat, as if adding to the hot air will help change it."

Lisbet returned to her work so that she wouldn't see her smile. Solstice was the first of her siblings to have a child, and Oona tended to hover over her niece. She would never admit it though, and wouldn't appreciate the suggestion to begin with.

"Mind that you finish that length of red silk today," she pointed a finger at her. "It's due to go in the shipment, and we have much more to do by then."

"Yes, Oona," Lisbet nodded. She was so used to saying _your ladyship_ or _yes ma'am_ that the casual appellation still tasted odd on her lips, but it seemed to suit Oona just fine.

"I'll be back soon," the old weaver said, closing the door behind her.

They usually worked in relative silence between them, but there was something different about being completely alone. Lisbet fell into a contented rhythm, passing the silken threads back and forth along the length of the loom before her, until a soft double-rap on the door interrupted her reverie.

It must be someone wanting to place an order, since the fabric stall wasn't open at the market today. Lisbet unfolded herself from her hunched position at the loom, wincing as her back cramped in protest. She should stretch more often during the workday, but she got so absorbed in the task at hand that she forgot. A customer was a welcome distraction.

Despite a fist still pressed to the small of her aching back, it didn't take much effort for her to summon a smile as she swung the door open.

"Oh," she said, smile melting into a confused flittering in the pit of her belly. Why, oh why, did Ben short-circuit the frontal lobe of her brain? She had interacted with hundreds of handsome men in her lifetime and kept her composure all the while. This was _ridiculous_.

"Hello there," he replied. If he noticed her momentary confusion, he didn't let on.

Lisbet fell back on her long reserves of gentility. "Good morning. Would you like to place an order for fabric?" she asked as she straightened fully into correct handmaiden posture, though it only brought her up to about his chin.

"No, thank you," Ben said. He withdrew a small, sealed pot from the voluminous folds of his cloak and extended it to her. "I brought this for you."

"Thank you," she said on reflex, tentatively taking it from his hand. It was heavy for its size, made of old-fashioned ceramic with a tightly closed plasto lid. Lisbet unscrewed the top to reveal a thick, greenish cream inside, and she couldn't help the perplexed look that swept across her face.

"It's a sunblock," Ben clarified.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, now bringing the unexpected treasure up to her nose for an experimental sniff. It smelled mostly herbal, with some notes that she couldn't place. In the twelve or so days since she'd seen Ben last, her horrible burn had faded, but another had taken its place. Sunblock was practically a miracle at this point.

"It's a very simple recipe," he said. "Not much grows in the Waste, but the main ingredient to an old folk remedy does. I have found it to be surprisingly efficacious."

She tried to hide her surprise. "You made this?"

"Well," he said, "one must cultivate all manner of unexpected skills out in the desert."

"Thank you, Ben," Lisbet beamed as she twisted the cap back on. Then a thought occurred to her. "It won't stain my skin green, will it?"

"No," he said, his dimples making the briefest appearance.

"That's something my brother would do," she said. "This really is wonderful, Ben. I had hoped that I might grow accustomed to the suns here, but that seems to be a lost cause."

"You are very welcome," he said with a bow.

Lisbet realized that he was making to leave - and that she didn't want him to. And besides, it seemed wrong to accept his gift without at least offering something in return.

"I was just about to have some tea," she blurted out in a desperate improvisation. "Would you care to join me?"

Ben paused, his face unreadable as he considered. "Tea-drinking is not a common practice on Tatooine," he finally said.

"We're not from Tatooine," Lisbet countered.

"That is true," he said, neutrally.

"I just got a fresh Tarine brew last week," she said. "I keep some here for when the workday gets long. Oona won't touch it, she says hot drinks make her sick. Although, I've seen her down a full pot of caff, so I'm not sure what she considers a hot drink." Lisbet had no idea why this information seemed necessary to impart, but she was spiralling perilously close to flat-out rambling. She cut herself off, and hoped that he would take pity on her.

He did. "Do you have any sweet-sand cookies?" he asked with a smile, referring to the traditional pairing with Tarine tea.

"No," she grinned, knowing that he would accept anyway. "But there's plenty of plain sand, if that suits your taste." She opened the door wider to admit him.

He chuckled as he passed through the doorway and she shut it behind him. "I'll manage without."

The workshop took up most of the available space inside, but Oona kept a small corner sparsely equipped with two chairs and a narrow table stocked with a few refreshments, presumably for customer consultations. These happened so rarely, however, that the space had become more of a place to rest or take their noon meal.

"I had no idea there were so many kinds of looms," Ben commented, looking around the crowded work floor. Now that he was out of the breeze, he swept a hand through his long hair to push it out of his face.

"Different looms for different weaves," Lisbet said. She moved past him to put a kettle on, trying not to notice their momentary proximity. "The two upright looms are for longer pieces of fabric, usually muslins. The rest make for finer weaves, like silk and chiffon."

"I imagine the work must be very repetitive," he said as he sat in one of the rickety chairs.

"Very," Lisbet laughed. By then the water had begun to boil, so she poured it into the teapot to let it steep. "But there's something pleasant about repetition, don't you think? It's almost meditative."

"I have often found that to be true," he agreed. "Had you done much work with fabric before coming here?"

Talking about her prior employment was dangerous ground. Oona and Solstice knew very little of Core-world customs and accepted everything Lisbet told them without question, but Ben was a native of Coruscant. He would notice an untruth a klick away. And she hadn't told Gareth that she'd talked to him again - now twice. But there was no reason she couldn't be honest about almost everything, with the exception of _why_ they had left that life behind.

"Not with weaving it," she answered. "I worked as a handmaiden for one of the ladies on Hosnian Prime. I learned to mend and make clothing, but that is the most I knew of the trade. Do you prefer to sweeten your tea?"

"Plain, thank you," he replied as she poured two cups.

"You're made of sterner stuff than I," Lisbet said, swirling a spoonful of honey into hers. The sentiment made her think in broader scopes, remembering that he had said he used to be a pilot before he lost his brother. She hoped he wouldn't mind the sudden change of topic. "How did you become a pilot?"

His pause as he thoughtfully studied his teacup made her think she _had_ overstepped. But then he looked up at her with a ghost of smile and a bittersweet warmth in his eyes, like he was remembering something that he didn't often speak of. "I was brought up into it, I suppose," he said. "My… father was a pilot, and he taught me everything that he could. As much as I would learn." His smile widened for a moment at some private memory.

She tried to imagine him as a youth, but all she came up with was irresistible dimples and bright eyes. He was too reserved now, too difficult to read, for her to paint his past with any detailed strokes.

"So you were a pilot long before the war started," she guessed.

"Yes," he replied, taking a sip. "Correct me if I am mistaken, but wasn't Hosnian Prime neutral at the beginning of the war?"

"It was," she said. "But the trade routes dried up after a few months, so our leaders allied with the Republic. We were told it was the lesser of two evils - no offense."

"None taken," he said. "That must have been a difficult decision for your people."

"Well, even after we rejoined the Republic, I think we tried to proceed as if we were still neutral as much as possible. And her Ladyship forbade any talk of the war in the household, since she was so opposed to our part in it, however small. It must sound terribly naive of me, but I don't know much about the war. But it was my understanding that all of the soldiering positions were filled by the clone army?"

"Not all. There is always a need for experienced pilots, especially in wartime. Did your brother serve in the same household that you did?"

Lisbet wasn't stupid; she could see that they were verbally circling one another, flipping the subject of conversation back onto the other - or away from themselves - as quickly as courtesy allowed. She also knew that when Ben said _experienced pilots_ , he really meant _elite_. It was true that she had been largely sheltered from the war, but not enough that she couldn't read between the lines.

"Gareth started there before I did," she answered. "He worked in security for four years before he helped me obtain my position with her Ladyship, when I was ready. He was one of the youngest guardsmen ever appointed."

"I take it that it's a prestigious role?" Ben asked.

She nodded. "And competitive. Before they're even eligible to apply, potential guardsmen must attend a three year training program and spend at least a year on active duty for lower priority work. They're expected to know several languages and have at least a basic understanding of mechanics, politics, astronavigation, and emergency medical response in addition to their defense and security duties."

"I imagine handmaidens are similarly educated," Ben said, swirling the remaining tea in his cup.

"Well," Lisbet smiled, "no less thoroughly, but in the niceties of court life and all its attending refinements. My brother can repair a hyperdrive, and I can match the perfect lipstain to a formal dress and help coordinate a gala for five hundred guests."

"Between the two of you, it sounds like you have more martial experience," he said with an answering smile. "Galas of that scale require military precision."

It was such a perfect segue that Lisbet opened her mouth to turn the subject back to his own military experience. But just then, the front door creaked open and Oona stumped inside.

"I cannot abide this heat," she announced just before noticing that Lisbet was, in fact, not at her usual post by a loom, and was instead ensconced in conversation with Ben.

"How is Solstice?" Lisbet stammered out, feeling vaguely like a schoolchild caught cheating even though she had done nothing wrong. She set her nearly empty teacup on the table and stood up, apprehensively smoothing out her skirt.

Oona's eyes had narrowed to suspicious slits, which flickered back and forth from Lisbet to Ben as if she had narrowly thwarted actual intercourse between them instead of just interrupting conversation. Lisbet couldn't even bring herself to look at him, because she didn't know what she would see in his eyes. If there was the faintest trace of amusement, she was sure she wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. And if he was appalled by Oona's silent insinuation - well. It didn't bear thinking about.

"Solstice is fine," Oona said without uncoiling a single measure. "Good afternoon, Ben."

"Good afternoon," he replied, rising to his feet so that he could offer her something of a bow. Lisbet risked a glance at him, and his expression was completely neutral. The awkward tension in the room was so palpable that she grasped at anything that would alleviate it.

"I was just keeping Ben company until you got back," she blurted out, and then immediately regretted it as Oona's entire demeanor changed. Like a flutterwing emerging from its cocoon, Oona shed her suspicion and transformed into the picture of the perfect hostess.

"Oh, well in that case," she all but cooed, flitting right past Lisbet to get as close to Ben as possible. "What brings you into town today, Ben?"

Lisbet backed up a pace, since the little sitting area had gotten crowded by the addition. She caught Ben's eye over Oona's shoulder and offered him an apologetic grimace. _Sorry_ , she silently mouthed to him.

He only gave her a split-second of his attention so as not to raise Oona's suspicions, but that split-second was packed with meaning. He managed to convey the essence of a bemused eye-roll, a world-weary acceptance of the new social duty she had put him in, and an acceptance of her apology in one quick glance. Lisbet stifled a smile.

"I hoped you might sell me some thread," he said. Oona's hand had somehow ended up on his chest, and he very gently removed it and clasped her fingertips in a courtly style. "One never knows when a mending kit will be needed."

"A very wise observation," Oona nodded breathlessly, not breaking eye contact with him as she gestured erratically to Lisbet. "Girl, fetch the sewing notions for Ben."

"What colour thread?" Lisbet asked in her mildest handmaiden tone. It really shouldn't be funny that she'd thrown Ben to the proverbial blood-wolves instead of confessing that he'd actually come to see her, but Oona was practically _quivering_.

"Brown will do just fine, thank you," Ben replied. He had begun to skillfully ease out of the sitting area and in the direction of the door, with Oona following him like a comet trapped in his gravitational pull all the while even though he'd dropped her hand. "I understand that you went to check on your niece?" he asked her politely.

"Yes," Oona said. "That is so _thoughtful_ of you to ask. Her mother being so far away on the farm, I consider it my duty to keep an eye on Solstice, especially in her condition."

"I'm sure both she and her mother deeply appreciate it," Ben said, still making slow and steady progress toward the door.

"Oh! You're too kind," Oona purred.

Lisbet finally located the thread she was looking for in the box of loosely organized bobbins and spools. "Here it is," she said as she wisely gave it to Oona so that the old weaver could be the one to make the critical hand-off to Ben.

He took it with a relieved smile. "Thank you. How much do I owe you for this?"

"It's nothing," Oona said with a dismissive wave.

"Madam, I absolutely insist," Ben said, capturing her hand again to press a kiss against her knuckles and simultaneously palm a credit chit into her grasp. Lisbet was beginning to suspect that he knew exactly how speechless this action always rendered Oona, because he took the opportunity to wish them both a good afternoon before quickly disappearing out the door.

"I'll win him over yet," Oona said to the closed door a second later, the spell dissipating.

"Shall we go over what's left to fill the shipment?" Lisbet suggested, her eyes going to the jar of sunblock next to Ben's abandoned teacup.

The reminder of business brought Oona completely back to her senses, and she bustled over to the stock area. "It's a good thing I found you when I did, girl," she said as she sorted through the bolts of fabric. "Elsewise I never would have finished this order in time."

Gratified at the closest thing to a compliment she would likely ever get, Lisbet returned to her silk loom. "Better not speak too soon. We still have a lot to finish, like you said earlier."

"True," Oona grunted, settling to her own task, and the two of them spent the rest of the afternoon in mutual silence, each to her own thoughts.

* * *

**tɕāj,** _(n., Thai)_ , sincere kindness and willingness to help another, without expecting anything in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	4. cafuné

The next time Lisbet saw Ben was over two weeks later, in the marketplace on her way home from the weaving shop. She was carrying a bundle of fabric that Oona had pressed into her hands while grumbling that Lisbet's plain clothes were bad advertising.

"These pieces haven't sold in a quarter, anyway," she had sniffed, although Lisbet couldn't imagine why. One length was a beautiful floral print, and the other two were finely spun neutrals. Then she realized that it was a gift disguised as a mere favour. She and Gareth weren't quite destitute, but there was no way she could afford this quality of material for new clothes - and Oona knew that.

Why the old weaver maintained such a steady pretense of being an insufferable grump when she was actually kind and considerate was beyond Lisbet, but she had still played along and thanked Oona calmly, without the effusion that such a gift actually merited.

Now she held the precious cargo close to her chest as she wended through the marketplace, already planning what she could use it for. It was late afternoon and the market was mostly quiet, although there would be another rush later when the rest of town finished work for the day. Lisbet rounded a corner and paused, seeing Ben a little ways ahead of her.

The wind was so strong that it whipped his hair relentlessly into his eyes and across his face. He used both hands to scrape it off his forehead and stayed that way for a moment, apparently reluctant to release the wayward strands back into the wind. It made her secretly relieved that her own hair was braided in a long coil around her head.

"Blast it," she heard him growl.

"Are you growing it out?" Lisbet asked mildly, coming along beside him.

He glanced over at her, still holding the wild mop off his face. "Not by choice," he sighed. "I never had occasion to learn how to cut my own hair, so I must let it grow until I can tie it back. Until then, it's rather…. uncivilized."

"I could cut it for you," Lisbet blurted out before she could stop herself. "I trained as a hairdresser before I decided to pursue being a handmaiden. I cut my brother's hair. And I used to do hair for the entire household back home, even the Senator. What I mean is, I won't scalp you or - anyway." She ground her teeth together, just to stop rambling.

But he was looking at her like she had single-handedly brought rains and plenty back to the desert wastes of Tatooine. "That would be very kind of you," he replied, finally dropping his arms. Of course the wind whipped his hair right back into his face, and he closed his eyes for moment in a perfect picture of weary patience.

"My shears are at home," Lisbet said, strangely elated. She already thought that his hair had enormous potential - and besides, this was practically a mercy mission.

"I cannot pay you what it would be worth," he said, looking pained.

She waved away the notion. "Please don't even mention it. If anything, consider it payment for the sunblock. Which, as you can see, does wonders." She dramatically flourished a hand under her chin to highlight her unburnt skin.

He still hesitated, either through a sense of personal pride or for some other private reason. Then a particularly strong gust of wind buffeted against them, sending some of his hair into his mouth. He went dead behind the eyes as he dragged a hand through it to free himself. "At this point, a scalping seems preferable to this."

"Come on, then," she laughed. "I'm done with work today. It won't take long, if you're ready now."

"I have been ready for several months. May I carry your parcel?"

She almost refused at first, just out of long habit, but she caught herself. It was clear that accepting a favour did not sit easily with Ben, and anything he could do to balance the scales would make it a sweeter pill to swallow. She handed the bundle over. "Thank you."

"I should collect Rooh, if it's not too far out of the way," he said, tucking it under his arm.

Lisbet stuffed down a most unbecoming flare of heart-clenching _something_ as she gestured them in the right direction. "Rooh?"

"My eopie," he replied, falling into step beside her. "The owners of the cantina kindly allow me to tether her outside while I conduct my business about town, but I don't like leaving her there any longer than necessary."

"We have a shed out back," Lisbet said, unaccountably relieved, "where my brother parks the speeder. He won't be home for a couple hours yet, and you're welcome to keep her there in the meantime."

They were passing by the cantina anyway as they spoke, and sure enough one of the tall, ridiculous animals native to Tatooine was placidly chewing her cud outside. Eopies were pretty common in Anchorhead both as beasts of burden and as a food source, but Lisbet had never had occasion to interact with one. She somewhat skittishly kept her distance when Ben went over to his pet.

The gawky creature snuffed the back of his neck as he untied her, long nose twitching against the folds of his dark hood. The action was so gentle that Lisbet softened a measure, but she still kept Ben between her and Rooh when he rejoined her, eopie in tow.

"She doesn't bite," he said wryly, noticing her apprehension.

"But they _do_ spit," Lisbet countered.

"Rooh would never," Ben said, stroking a hand down the eopie's long neck. She returned the favour by gently butting him with her head, sniffling again along his shoulders. "I'm afraid her previous owners were most indulgent with treats," he explained. "She is convinced that I hide all manner of delicacies in my hood."

"Well, that's where I would stow them, if I had any," Lisbet said rationally.

"Perhaps you and Rooh have more in common than you originally thought," he replied with a completely straight face.

Lisbet almost stumbled over her own feet, since the foremost features that sprang to her mind were Rooh's hunched back and strikingly pale skin. She was spared from any attempt at a scathing rebuttal, however, by their arrival at her home.

It was still early enough in the day that their neighbors were either still away or working inside, which somehow was a relief. She and Gareth were already something of an oddity simply by virtue of being newcomers, and Ben was widely considered to be an irredeemably odd hermit - albeit a little too young (and attractive) for the title. Lisbet didn't mind being seen with him, but she absolutely dreaded the gossip that would follow.

There was a narrow walkway between their dwelling and the next, which led to the shed behind the house and a long emptiness of sand beyond. There was nowhere to tie Rooh's long reins out front, but it was safe enough in the back. Oona had said that a Tusken raid on the town itself hadn't happened in over a decade.

Lisbet eyed the eopie's wide girth, weighing it against the walkway. "Do you think she'll fit?" The only other alternative was to go all the way through the residential section to one of the wider gateways.

"We've passed through narrower straits in the Waste," Ben replied with a pat on Rooh's shoulder.

"Well, then, if you want to settle her in the shed, I'll meet you there," Lisbet said.

Now that it came down to it, she felt completely off-balance. Should she invite him in? There was was nowhere inside to cut hair, but she didn't want him to think her rude by keeping him on the doorstep. And what about tea? Shouldn't she at least offer him that? This was less than a social call and more than a business transaction - and therefore completely out of her realm of experience.

She covered her confusion by bolting inside.

Once out of his presence and into more familiar environs, she took a breath. _This is just a haircut_ , she told herself sternly. _Stop overthinking._ Maybe she shouldn't laugh at Oona's reactions to him next time.

Heart rate slightly more moderate, Lisbet tucked Oona's gift into the chest at the foot of her bed for safekeeping and fished out her haircutting kit. It was one of the precious few things that she had retained from home, mostly because it would be irreplaceable here in the Outer Rim.

She picked up a chair on her way through the kitchen to the back door. It was clunky to fit it through the doorframe, especially with one of her hands already full. But she had barely gotten a half-breath into the awkward task before Ben was there from the outside to take the burden from her, murmuring "let me," as his hands closed around the backrest. It brought them very close together for a brief moment, and Lisbet surrendered the chair while firmly reminding herself to breathe.

Just then, Rooh sneezed rather explosively from where Ben had tied her reins outside the shed door, shaking her long neck to clear the clinging mucus from her nose.

Ben shot an apologetic glance at Lisbet. "Please excuse her appalling manners. It would seem my efforts to teach her how to behave in polite company have not had their desired effect."

"On the contrary," Lisbet said, eyeing the dangling string of snot that the eopie hadn't managed to dislodge. "It looks like you've taught her everything you know."

"I yield," Ben said with an exaggerated wince. "There is no recovery from such a blow."

She laughed. "Have a seat. Let's at least rid you of your uncivilized mop, even if your pet is beyond hope."

There was enough shelter between the house and the shed to provide a little privacy and to block the wind, which seemed to be dying down anyway. Ben swept off his cloak with the efficient grace of long practice. He tucked it into one of Rooh's saddlebags while Lisbet pretended to shift the chair into the best place, when in reality she was covertly studying him now that he wasn't _quite_ so covered up.

His clothes were similar to what most people wore on Tatooine, but Lisbet's newly practiced eye could tell that the fabric was a finely-made weave. Otherwise he was fairly unremarkable - average height and build, and too many layers of clothing to guess much beyond that.

"I cannot thank you enough for this," he said as he docilely sat down with his back to her.

"You're practically doing _me_ a favour," Lisbet replied, settling her cutting cape across his shoulders. His hair was so long that she had to lift it off his neck to snap the drape's closures. "There's only so much bad hair that I can see before drastic measures must be taken."

"I had no idea that my personal style was so offensive to you," he said wryly.

"I could barely stand to look at you," she assured him. This was much more familiar footing, and she could feel her equilibrium returning. She carded both hands into his hair, assessing how it had once been cut and deciding what she would do. "How long has it been since it was cut last?"

He paused for a moment, a silent reckoning. "Nine standard months, give or take," he replied at last, and she felt foolish for asking even though it was only to find out how much it had grown. Of course it must have been sometime before he lost his brother.

"How much do you want me to trim off?" she asked quickly to move the subject along.

"I leave that in your capable hands," he said.

Lisbet shifted from the sides to the top of his head, considering what his hair would do. Normally she preferred to do such a drastic change on wet hair, but that would be extravagant here on barren Tatooine. It would take longer to get a dry cut right, but there was nothing for it. Banishing - unsuccessfully - the flurry of nerves that always came the first time she worked on someone new, she picked up her shears and comb.

"Are you ready?" she asked once she was poised to begin, a vertical section of hair at his temple held between her second and third fingers. She always had to ask before cutting so much off.

"Yes," Ben replied tranquilly, and she sliced off the first length, trimming it quite short. "I already feel lighter," he said as the fallen strands tumbled into the sand.

There was a smattering of silver at his temples, but she could tell that the shorter style would make him look a little younger. Lisbet's apprehension disappeared now that the first snip was done. Sometimes a haircut could be a revelation, and there was no doubt in her mind that she was about to do real harm to Ben's title as an eccentric hermit.

She wanted to ask him more about his experience as a pilot - but that was irrevocably tangled up in the Clone War and the loss of his brother, which seemed insensitive to keep bringing up. And the silence between them felt easy, especially now that she had something to do with her hands. The first sun had begun its lazy descent toward the horizon, lengthening the faint double shadows and starting to surrender the worst of the day's heat. It was hours still until true nightfall, but this first glimmer of reprieve from the harsh daylight was more than welcome.

After a few moments' silence, Lisbet decided that she would rather just talk with him than be paralyzed by unasked questions. "I'm sorry I forced your hand the other day with Oona," she said, angling her shears so she could crop off the whorls at the nape of his neck.

He chuckled, a low rumbling purr in his chest that, absurdly, made her want to put a hand between his shoulderblades so that she could feel the resonance of it under her palm. "Don't apologize. I was being honest when I said that one never knows when a mending kit will be needed. Buying thread was long overdue."

"Is that what brought you into town today? A supply run?" she asked.

"Yes, I needed a part for my coolant unit," he replied. "I may be single-handedly keeping Tosche Station in business. It seems like something breaks every other day."

"You're in a joint business venture with me and Gareth, then," Lisbet said. "All the appliances in these older houses are held together with mesh-tape and monofilament."

"If they're held together at all," Ben murmured in agreement.

"I imagine living out in the Waste must be difficult," she ventured as she cross-checked what she had already cut by combing it in the opposite direction and trimming off any unevenness that appeared between the comb's teeth.

"It is, from a certain point of view," he said, looking down when she gently nudged his head in the direction she needed him to go. "But it's also very peaceful in its own way. I suppose the quiet does me good."

"What about the Sand People?" she asked. Gareth hadn't yet started his night shifts on guard duty at the farm, but he was due to soon. "It seems like no one can agree about how dangerous they actually are."

"I haven't seen any," Ben said softly, seeming to understand the concern that she had tried to keep hidden. "Though I've come across their tracks a time or two. Your brother works on one of the moisture farms out to the west, doesn't he?"

"Yes," she replied, but she wasn't ready to let him take control of the conversation yet. "Why don't you work on one of the farms? Solstice says her father is always short-handed."

"Who says I don't have other things to occupy my time?" Ben said, his tone dry. "You should have seen the state of my place when I bought it - it's entirely possible that the Jawas used it as a trash dump once. I'm still cleaning the place up."

"Do you ever trade with the Jawas? I've seen their Sandcrawlers on the horizon a few times, but they never come into town." By now she had finished the sides of his hair, and she tilted his head in a different angle so that she could blend his sideburns into his beard.

"I suspect that the shopkeepers here have some sort of agreement with them, to minimize business competition. The Jawas seem to favour more far-flung customers who don't have such easy access to merchandise. But to answer your question, I have not."

"Why?" Lisbet knew she was precariously toeing the line of sounding like an overly inquisitive child, but this was the most relaxed she had seen him. And surely Sand People and Jawas were a safe enough topic of conversation.

"Well - I don't think they know I'm there."

"I hope they figure it out before they dump more of their trash at your house," she grinned, letting him straighten his posture so she could start on the crown of his head.

"That's the last thing I need," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice even though she was standing behind him and couldn't see it. "Rooh would revolt. She was even more offended by the smell than I was."

"With a nose so long, who can blame her?"

"I do believe you're coming around to my eopie, after all."

"Don't give her any ideas," she retorted. "I'm not much of one for strays."

"Neither was I, once," Ben said, almost sotto voce, "but they do have a way of finding a way in."

He wasn't talking about Rooh anymore.

But before Lisbet could get her tongue under her to ask what he meant, Ben seemed to recollect himself. "I take it you didn't have any pets as a child?"

"No," she said slowly, wishing he hadn't changed the subject. "Hosnian Prime is an ecumenopolis. Domestic animals are discouraged, except for the very rich. Did you?"

"No. Although my father kept some very… interesting plants at times."

"Oh?" She perked up. Growing up an a planet that was almost entirely a city sprawl - and then moving to another planet that was the same, but on an even bigger scale - meant that vegetation was less a fact of life and more a treat.

"Pilots travel to a wide variety of systems," Ben said. "For a time, he had quite a collection of flora going."

"What did your mother think of that?" Ever since losing hers, Lisbet wanted to hear about everyone else's. What kind of woman married a pilot and raised two more? Was she still alive? Did she grieve her lost sons - one to death, the other to exile?

Ben paused.

"I never knew her," he answered finally, in a soft voice.

Lisbet frowned at her hands, working steadily through his hair. Either his mother had died while he was very young, or she went away before he could form any memories of her. Did Ben have no one left to miss him, then? Lisbet decided not to push him more about it. "I'm sorry," she said. "My mother died when I was eight years old. I can't imagine not knowing her at all."

"How did she pass?"

"A mistake," Lisbet said as she shifted around to stand in front of him so she could better reach the rest of his hair. "Later the authorities traced it to a ship of Trade Federation merchants that didn't clear the biocustom checks. They weren't sick themselves, but they were carriers of a synthvirus that was poison to many of us, and it caused an epidemic. My parents both died before they could finish the antidote."

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "That must have been very difficult. What became of you and your brother?"

"My mother's parents took us in. Grandpa went back to work to pay for our education, and Grandmama raised us." She smiled at the memory of them. "They were tough as septoids."

He must have noticed the past-tense, but he didn't press. "They sound like they were very good people."

"The best," she said simply. She didn't often talk about her family history like this. Maybe it was foolish, but she trusted him - even if Ben's evasive half-answers probably meant that he didn't quite trust her. She didn't mind; he was still grieving under that pleasant demeanor, and wounded animals guard their hearts more jealously than any other. As long as she didn't spook him, perhaps one day he would give her his confidence.

But for now, she pushed his forelock - much shorter now - out of his face, sweeping it back in the style she had always favoured for men. Looking at him now that his haircut was done, a faint spark of recognition made her frown. But that was next to impossible; Coruscant was home to over a trillion lifeforms, and the statistical odds of the two of them having met before were astronomical.

"There," she said as she unsnapped the cutting cape. "Good as new."

Ben stood, brushing a bit of fallen hair from his wide sleeve. "Thank you, Lisbet. You have been too kind."

"I'm only sorry my courtyard makes for such a poor barbershop, and that I have no mirror to show you your transformation." There was a mirror inside in the refresher, but that same paralysis from earlier made her pause on the cusp of offering him entry to the house.

"That's not necessary. I have no doubt that you did an excellent job. And now I hope you will not think me rude, but I should be going. I prefer not to travel openly through the Wastes at night, and the first sun will be setting soon."

"I hope I haven't kept you later than you intended," Lisbet said, suddenly sorry that he was going.

"Not at all," he said with a warm smile that sent a frisson of electricity straight into the pit of her belly. "You have done me a great kindness."

"Then I won't do you a disservice by delaying you any longer," she replied, returning his smile.

"Can I help you clean up?" He gestured to the chair.

"No, I can manage. You really should be going if you want to beat the suns home."

"Thank you again, Lisbet," he said, sketching her a half bow.

"It was my pleasure," she smiled. "You look much less unkempt now."

He glanced at her as he returned to Rooh and swept his cloak back over his shoulders. "Was that something of a compliment?"

"Well, you had better take care to be in an easily defensible location the next time you encounter Oona, in case you are besieged." Lisbet blinked innocently.

He cracked a full grin then, quickly looking away from her and toward Rooh as if abashed. "Good advice. She can be formidable."

"You see, I haven't done you a favour at all. It would seem that I've only made your life harder." She didn't give him time to disagree, figuring they could attempt to out-polite each other indefinitely. "Goodnight, Ben. Safe travels."

"Goodnight, Lisbet." He swung up easily into Rooh's saddle with her long reins in hand. The eopie twisted her head around to whiffle at Ben's dark boot, her liquid eyes softly inquisitive. He let her straighten out before guiding her in the proper direction, saying over his shoulder as Rooh carried him away, "Thank you again."

She just nodded her welcome, unable to keep a smile off her face at the way the pair of them treated each other. Lisbet still didn't especially like eopies, but she couldn't deny that Rooh had a sweetness about her.

Rooh's owner wasn't so bad, either.

* * *

**cafuné,** _(v., Portuguese)_ , the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I would love to hear from you. :)


	5. kilig

"I think that's the last of it," Lisbet said as she loaded one more crate into the back of the speeder.

It was time for Oona's quarterly trip to Mos Eisley to sell her more expensive fabrics and look for new customers among the hoteliers and other business owners there. Lisbet was glad to stay behind and begin work on some of the smaller orders that had been deferred until after the final push to finish this shipment. Three weeks in Mos Eisley immediately after arriving on Tatooine had more than sated her appetite for the rough city.

"Don't forget to begin that purple linen for Sevrina," Oona grumped. "And it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on Solstice, too."

"She looks fits to burst, doesn't she?" Lisbet asked with a grin. She didn't know much about pregnancy, but she had just learned that sometimes expectant mothers "popped" almost overnight, which made it look like their due date had jumped forward.

"Just so long as she doesn't burst while I'm away," the old weaver retorted, fixing Lisbet with a stern look as if making her personally responsible to keep Solstice's unborn child inside her belly until Oona deemed the time was right.

"Of course," Lisbet agreed, privately and suddenly a little concerned that Solstice might go into labor a month early after all.

Meanwhile, Oona had clamoured behind the controls of the speeder. "I'll see you in four or five days, girl," she said. "I expect everything to be well in order when I get back."

"Yes, Oona," Lisbet said. "Safe travels."

She didn't get a well-wish in return, but she hadn't expected one. Oona sniffed as she turned the speeder away from the shop and toward the cantina, where she would pick up two of the local boys who served as her security team on trips like this. Lisbet had long since lost track of how everyone was connected to each other in this small town, but she was pretty sure they were Oona's second cousins, and this was the last time the eldest would make the trip before he left to seek higher education off-world.

A moment later and the speeder was gone, leaving Lisbet alone in the doorway of the weaving shop.

It was already late morning, so she broke for a midday meal before returning to the looms. Gareth was one day into his second four-night stint guarding the farm overnight, so she was in no hurry to return home to an empty house. She worked later than usual, lost in her thoughts and the soothing, repetitive meditation of weaving.

By the time she resurfaced, the first sun had already half-sunk below the horizon. Lisbet lazily unfurled into a full body stretch, wondering what she should do with the rest of her evening. It wouldn't hurt to stop by to see Solstice and her husband on the way home - they lived in a different residential section, but nothing was really out of the way in a town the size of Anchorhead. She carefully locked up the shop and stepped out into the gloaming light.

"Lissy!" Solstice cried a few minutes later when Lisbet knocked on her door. She put a hand on her round belly and _tsk_ 'd as Lisbet came inside. "Auntie told you to check up on me while she's away, didn't she?"

"Does that really surprise you?" Lisbet asked with an arched brow.

"No," Solstice laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her further into the house. "Come in and let me talk with you. We've already eaten, but I can warm up a plate for you if you're hungry. And Myles was going to make some caff for dessert - Myles! Make enough for three, we have company! Do you want something to eat, Lissy?"

Lisbet didn't resist as her friend drew her all the way to the dine-in kitchen, where Solstice's husband was loading used dishes into the pulse-cleaner. Myles Sunfell was short, stocky, and generally plain, but if ever a man adored a woman, Myles adored Solstice. His eyes softly kindled with love-light at the sight of her, even though it couldn't have been more than a moment since he saw her last.

And whoever Solstice liked, he liked too. "Hello, Lissy," - he also called people whatever Solstice called them - "can I fix you a plate?"

"Just a cup of caff would be wonderful, thank you," Lisbet said, not wanting to inconvenience them even though she hadn't eaten supper yet.

"Coming right up," he said, smiling, then returned his attention to Solstice. "Better sit down, love. No need to be on your feet when they're already hurting."

"Hush, you," Solstice said fondly as she plopped down into one of the seats at the kitchen table. "You'll give sweet Lissy reason to tell Auntie a bad report when she gets back. Sit with me, friend, because I have a favour to ask of you." She patted the place setting opposite her as an invitation for Lisbet to join her at the table.

"What sort of favour?" Lisbet asked, sitting down.

"You've heard me talk about my little sister, haven't you?"

"Which one? Oh, thank you." Lisbet accepted a steaming cup from Myles as he set a sugar dish in the center of the table. Kissing his wife on the crown of her head, he handed her a cup as well. Solstice tilted up to peck at whatever she could reach, which turned out to be his chin.

"I'll be in the garage," he laughed. "I have no head for party talk."

"Party talk?" Lisbet asked, a flutter of excitement in her stomach despite herself as Myles disappeared out the back door. She hadn't thought parties even _happened_ on Tatooine.

" _Yes_ , party talk," Solstice said with a conspiratorial glow, reaching for Lisbet's hands to clasp them in anticipation. "Tavrie is coming of age, and Mama has asked me to plan her star-seventeen dance since I'm in town and they're out on the farm."

"What's that?" Lisbet said as she stirred a spoonful of sugar into her caff.

"Oh, I keep forgetting you aren't from here," Solstice said. "Well, there's no one way to do a star-seventeen dance - some girls have smaller ones at home, but the best ones are at the community center where there's space for everyone to come."

"Everyone?"

"Well, all the young people. Stars, Lissy, it makes me feel old to say _young people_ , like I'm not one anymore." Solstice grimaced into her cup. "Ugh. Anyway, all the teenagers from town and the local farms come to the community center, and there's food and dancing and it's just the best time. My star-seventeen was more fun than my wedding!"

Lisbet had long-since gathered that Solstice's father, Kairon, was pretty well-to-do in the community, with one of the biggest moisture and hydroponic farms in the area. It made sense that he had extra funds to spend on parties for his daughters.

"And if it goes late - which it always does - all the teens get divvied up to homes in town," Solstice was saying. "I already know Tavrie will stay the night with me, since it will be too late for her to drive back to the farm. It'll be like a sleepover, remember having those when we were younglings? Anyway, a star-seventeen is what every girl looks forward to here."

"It sounds like a wonderful evening," Lisbet said. Similar celebrations were common across the galaxy, and she had been to several on Hosnian Prime when she was a teenager. She had passed on having one of her own, though - something about being the center of that much attention unsettled her.

"It is," Solstice replied. "But it's ever so much work, Lissy, and I'll have a babe in arms by then."

"Is this the favour you were talking about?"

"Oh, Lissy, it will be so much _fun_ and you'll meet people from the other homesteads-"

"No, it's alright, Solstice, I would be happy to help," Lisbet laughed. "You don't have to convince me."

"Well, it's not just you," her friend said. "I was hoping that your brother might help, too. Of course Myles will be there, but there's enough heavy lifting that a second set of hands would be best."

"I'll have to ask him, but I think he would love to join in. What do you need us to do?"

They spent a cozy half-hour talking through Solstice's thoughts and plans for the event. She had attended many of these dances and helped to organize her own, but this was the first time she would be the grandmaster of an entire event. Lisbet, on the other hand, had experience with every size party, and the basic structure didn't change much between Coruscant and Tatooine. Solstice took copious notes on her datapad, and by the time Myles reappeared from the garage, they had a pretty detailed plan of action.

"What, still plotting away?" he asked, wiping his hands on a shop towel.

"Just finishing up," Solstice said.

"I should probably be going," Lisbet said with a glance through the window. The first sun had long since set, and the second was a low-slung sliver on the horizon.

Solstice rose to walk her to the door. "You're an angel, Lissy. I feel much more settled. But now it seems so far away!"

"Two months will fly by," Lisbet smiled. "And you have other business to attend to in the meantime." They had gotten to the front door, but Lisbet lingered in the entrance, a little reluctant to leave the cozy house and company.

"That's true." Solstice grinned down at her enormous bump and traced curlicues across its curve with the pads of her fingers. "I can't wait to meet him. Well, I mustn't keep you any longer, I've been terribly selfish already. Shall I call Myles to walk you home? It's nearly dark."

As if on cue, Myles poked his head out of the kitchen to give them both an inquisitive look.

"No, it's alright," Lisbet said. "I don't have far to go. Thank you for the caff."

"Have a good night," Solstice said warmly.

"Goodnight," Lisbet said, drawing the door closed behind her.

The air was cool on her skin as she made her way through the mostly empty streets. She brushed a few stray wisps of her hair behind her ear before they could tickle her cheeks in the breeze and quickly returned a passerby's smile. Anchorhead was surprisingly safe for being only eighty klicks from Mos Eisley's depravity, but she still mentally felt for the small blaster - courtesy of Gareth - which was concealed in her loose top.

As she passed by the cantina, she found herself scanning the faces of the people outside. She even examined the few eopies penned in the livestock area, but none of them looked familiar.

 _Well. Oona_ did _say he doesn't come into town often,_ she chastised herself. It was foolish, but she had looked for Ben nearly every time she left the shop or her house in the three weeks since she had cut his hair. _This is absurd. Go home and make yourself some supper and stop being ridiculous._

The second sun had almost completely disappeared by the time she got to her front door and keyed in the entry code. The interior of the little house was draped in even more twilight shadows than the street outside, and Lisbet quickly turned on the illuminators. It didn't do much to relieve the silence, though. With a bit of a self-pitying sigh, she set to preparing supper and resigned herself to a very solitary evening.

* * *

The next morning, she sleepily allowed herself a late start. It was an indulgence, but she could still get the same amount of work done and Oona would be done the wiser. Besides, she had stayed up late the night before, absorbed in a new holobook about Tatooine's early history. The extra hour of sleep felt like a treasure.

She took the holobook with her to the shop, hoping she could balance it on the loom and read while she worked. But it was too hard to keep it steady and pass the shuttle back and forth at the time same, so she gave up. Even though Oona was often quiet company, the shop felt positively cavernous without her - especially with Gareth gone the last couple of evenings, too.

Lisbet made it all the way to midday before deciding to visit the market. It wasn't one of the days that the fabric stall was open, so she technically didn't have a reason to go. But, she reasoned with herself, she could pick up some things for lunch, and a little fresh air never hurt anyone.

Cheered up by her own decision, she rustled around for the little pot of sunblock that Ben had given her. It was mostly enough to apply it once in the morning, but she still swiped a cautious reapplication over her nose and the apples of her cheeks at midday if she was going out again. Whatever it was made of was some kind of magic, because it kept her skin soft in the desert air, too.

The suns were at their tag-team zeniths when she stepped outside. A soft breeze kept it from being as hot as she had expected, and she tilted her head up to bask in the warmth of the sunlight now that it had no power over her.

Then her stomach growled, and she headed toward her errands.

She lingered in the market longer than strictly necessary, drifting into stalls she normally wouldn't visit. She saw several familiar faces and exchanged a few words with some of the venders, but something about the whole experience felt a little unsatisfactory.

Deciding to be cheerful despite herself, she thanked the fruit merchant and tucked her purchase into the small basket she had brought with her. And with one last sweeping look at the marketplace, she turned back toward the shop. She got all the way to the edges of the market when-

"Hello there."

Ben's voice startled her a little. She turned around and there he was, dimpling faintly at her with Rooh looming calmly over his shoulder.

"Hello," she said as a little lurch in her heartrate made her drop eye-contact before her answering smile took over her whole face. "I see your hair is no longer tormenting you."

"Yes, thank you," he said, inclining his head. "And I see the suns are no longer abusing you."

She allowed herself to grin up at him then. "Are you certain you weren't actually an aesthetician instead of a pilot? That sunblock you gave me is the best skin cream I've ever used."

"My secret is out," he frowned. "Now I will have to find an even more remote planet on which to hide."

"There's no need for such extremes," she said, adopting a serious expression herself. "Your secret is safe. I will carry your true identity with me to the grave."

Something in his demeanor changed almost imperceptibly, and he shifted his attention to checking Rooh's nerfhide tack. But a split second later he offered her a gentle smile. "Well, I have no wish to delay you on your errands. I hope you have a pleasant afternoon."

"You too," Lisbet said, fighting down a wave of what she didn't want to admit was disappointment.

He turned away, nudging Rooh in the same direction. She watched his back for a moment and fidgeted, wishing more than anything that he wouldn't go so soon.

"I've never-" she called after him on impulse, as if the words leapt out without her meaning to say them. He turned back to face her, and suddenly her throat closed up and she didn't know what to do with her hands. "It's just that, well, I've never been by myself so much. I haven't seen my brother in three days, and with Oona gone, the shop feels so quiet. I'm afraid I don't know what to do with myself."

He just watched her, his pale eyes neither judging nor pitying, and said nothing. It occurred to her that Ben lived alone all the time, and her discomfort at spending less than three days in the same circumstances must seem a little ridiculous to him. But it was too late - she couldn't shut up.

"I'm on my way back to the shop to have lunch," she said all in one breath, the awful possibility of being turned down making her face flush. "And it's nearly the hottest part of the day, anyway. It would be cruel to ask your eopie to bear you back into the Waste until it cools down."

"I had intended to wait out the worst of the heat in the cantina," he said.

She realized with a mental wince that she had simply stated facts about her plans instead of actually inviting him to join her like she meant, and that he had essentially done the same in return. She plunged on. "I can't promise anything about the quality of the food, but I _can_ guarantee that the shop will be cleaner than the cantina." That still wasn't quite an invitation, but hopefully he understood anyway.

"Well," he said, cracking a small smile, "any food must be better than what I make at my home."

She took this as an acceptance of her offer, so she turned toward the shop and trusted he would join her. "Is there anything edible out in the Waste?"

"Mostly snakes," he said, falling into step beside her. "I've had more snake stew than I care to contemplate."

"I've never had that, but it doesn't sound particularly ple- aaa _ahh_ -" Lisbet froze in place, clenching her shoulders all the way up to her ears as a soft, snuffling nose came into contact with the nape of her neck.

" _Rooh_ ," Ben said, tugging his errant eopie away from her. He shot Lisbet a chagrined look. "Please pardon my pet. As you know, we are still working on improving her manners."

Lisbet fought down a full-body shudder at how ticklish Rooh's nose had been. "It's alright," she said in a slightly higher pitch than she had intended. She cleared her throat as she resumed walking again.

There was enough shade in front of the shop for Rooh to rest comfortably, so Ben tied her long reins to the post near the door while Lisbet went inside to get a head start on lunch. It was simple food - the spiced ahrisa that she had just learned to make, served with haroun bread from the market and cold tatoe leftovers from yesterday's dinner. She had it mostly laid out by the time Ben stepped through the door.

"Our feast is served," she said with a grand gesture at the humble spread.

"It's very kind of you to share your meal with me," Ben said as he took a seat in the same spot he had taken tea a little over a month ago.

They ate in pleasant, if somewhat superficial conversation. It was so relaxed that Lisbet lingered longer over after-lunch tea than she intended, but eventually she realized she needed to get back to work or else stay past dark catching up. She strategically poured Ben a fresh cup before she shifted back over to the looms, hoping that he wouldn't take his leave at the transition.

But he didn't leave - he just turned his chair to face her and continued their conversation without missing a beat. The loom was quiet enough that it didn't disrupt them.

After a few minutes, though, she accidentally knocked the holobook she had tried to read earlier off its precarious perch on the edge of the loom, and she caught it just before it cracked on the hard synstone floor.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

The best place for it was on the little table next to him anyway, so she tilted the title toward him as she brought it over. " _The Early History of Tatooine_. It's a little dry, but I started reading it last night and now I'm engrossed."

"Oh," Ben said as Lisbet set the holobook down and returned to the loom. "Do not let me keep you from-"

"You're not," she said. "I can't read and weave at the same time, anyway. I kept knocking it off."

He picked up the holobook but hesitated before opening to the page she was on last. "May I?"

She just hummed her assent, attention already focussed on untangling a section of thread that had gotten snarled when she caught the holobook. She heard him clear his throat as he turned to the correct page and scanned over the words.

And then he began to read aloud.

Lisbet's hands stilled, her heart lurching into her throat.

Ben had a good voice for reading, his tones crisp and clear and his inflections engaging. Just listening to him instead of conversing back and forth changed the way she heard him, too - the timbre of his voice seemed slightly deeper, and sent frissons of electricity down her spine.

After a moment she returned to her work, more contented than she could remember being in a long while. The words he read filled the space with warmth and companionship, and a cosy couple of hours passed before either one was willing to surrender it.

At last, as the first sun was starting to sink toward the horizon, Lisbet reluctantly set down the shuttle as Ben read the last words of a chapter.

"Thank you," she said, knowing he would leave soon. "You could record audio-books. You have a natural ear for storytelling."

"I fear that I have little taste for the stories that are popular now," he said as he stood and set the holobook safely on the tabletop. "And even less for what will become the histories."

She rose too, but she didn't head for the door to see him out just yet. "All the same, I'm glad that you read this one."

They stood for a moment, separated by nearly the length of the room, regarding each other in silence. Lisbet noticed afresh his eyes - now they looked grey, shot with hazel. She wished that he wouldn't go, that she could listen to his voice and study the colour of his eyes in every light to see how they changed. For a moment she wondered if she should invite him to join her for dinner, too.

"I should go," he said, breaking the spell. "Thank you for sheltering me from the afternoon heat. This was much more pleasant than the cantina."

"You're very welcome," she replied. "Thank you for relieving the tedium of an afternoon to myself."

"The pleasure was all mine," he said as he inclined his head graciously. "Consider it my variation on singing for my supper. The food was excellent, by the way."

"You'd really better go," Lisbet laughed, moving toward the door at last. "We were both raised to courtesy, and only one of us can have the last word in this battle of good manners. I think it is my right, as hostess, to wish you a safe journey and good evening."

He followed her and stood for a moment in the open doorframe, outlined by the warm, late sunlight. "Then it is my right, as guest, to bid you good evening and thank you for your hospitality one more time."

"You win," she said, suddenly a little breathless at their proximity after spending most of the afternoon a greater distance apart.

An impish smile, one that went all the way to his eyes (which were blue again), lit across his face at the small victory, and he bowed slightly while Lisbet was still reconfiguring the ability to speak in her brain. "Until the next time," he said, turning toward Rooh.

"Until then," she echoed faintly, deciding that she wanted to see his dimples every day for the rest of her life.

She shut the door very slowly, as if delaying the inevitable would somehow change the fact that the afternoon was over, and then leaned her weight against it once it was closed.

He had _read_ to her.

It never would have occurred to her to ask - Ben had just known, and done it as a kindness while she worked. What kind of man was that considerate, that intuitive? Well - the kind of man who disappeared into the desert on the Outer Rim to grieve, she supposed.

Lisbet passed a hand over her eyes in an attempt to clear her head, and set about closing down the weaving shop for the day.

* * *

 **kilig,** _(n., Filipino)_ , the delightful feeling that sends shivers down the spine when one encounters something romantic.


	6. six

Lisbet tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and rearranged the loose fabric squares for the tenth time. Solstice was now too pregnant to stand the heat of minding the stall, so the task had fallen to Lisbet instead of weaving with Oona in the workshop like usual. They had temporarily reduced the open days of the stall from three to one until Solstice was back, but even so Lisbet wondered if there was enough demand to have the stall open at all. It was past the lunchtime rush, and she'd only had two customers and no sales.

At least she could read in all that downtime - which Oona probably would not approve of, since she should be actively encouraging sales. So she alternated between looking invitingly busy with interesting fabric, and curled over a holobook on the counter.

She was engrossed in the latter when someone blocked the sunlight of the stall's wide entrance, and she looked up to a familiar face.

"Ben!" she said, straightening with a grin. He came into Anchorhead so irregularly that she never quite expected him, and it had been just over two weeks since she had seen him last. "What brings you into town today?"

"I have run low on food for Rooh," he said, stroking a hand down his pale, hulking shadow's long neck. The eopie whiffled her nose in agreement. Ben turned back to Lisbet with the faintest of smiles under his beard. "And I find myself running low on conversation."

Lisbet raised her hands in mock self-defense. "It's not my fault you haven't taught your pet how to talk."

"It seems that I can barely even teach her basic etiquette," he sighed.

Lisbet would have scratched under Rooh's chin if they were near enough, but she didn't close the distance between them. "I think your pupil may be a lost cause, but that need not reflect on your tutelage."

A shadow of a wince passed over Ben's face, but he nodded quickly at the holobook half-concealed on the countertop under her folded arms. "Have you started a new one?"

"Yes, and another again after that," she said, letting the subject change without comment. "Gareth says I will read everything in Anchorhead before the six month is out."

"It defies reason, but there is a lending library of sorts in Mos Eisley," Ben said as he fingered his beard. "I pass through the city sometimes, in my wanderings for news. I could pick up some volumes for you, should you run out of material here."

"That would be very kind," Lisbet smiled. "But I hate to inconvenience you."

"It wouldn't be," he said. "I have considered stopping in anyway. It's been a long time since I did much reading. Do you have a preference for genre? Let me forewarn you that a spaceport like Mos Eisley is mostly stocked with pulp fiction and torrid romances."

"Maybe I like torrid romances," she blinked innocently, until she broke character by chuckling at the mental image of him checking out one of the more lewd bodice-rippers that had circulated in popularity a few years ago. Lisbet hadn't read it, but her Ladyship did and had shared all the pertinent passages with her handmaidens. The thought of all of them, dissolving into tears of hilarity over the flowery descriptions of improbable contortions, turned Lisbet's laugh into a bittersweet smile.

She shook off the memory and brightened back up at him. "I will take whatever you bring back. I trust your judgment."

"What if _I_ like torrid romances?" He dimpled innocently right back.

"Then bring me the pulpiest one you can find," she said. "Oh! That reminds me. Here." She fished under the counter for a small container, and extended it to him once she found it. "It's, um, it's just some different foods," she explained in response to his puzzled expression as he took it. Suddenly she felt a little silly, and added lamely, "to break up the monotony of snake stew."

Ben popped open the top, revealing two kinds of ahrisa, lamta, and a few pika fruit tarts, all separated neatly with clingfilm. Rooh's questing lips came perilously close to wiping out the entire spread, and he absently angled his body to block her. Undeterred, she used her height advantage to go over his shoulder, so he resealed the container.

"How did you know I would be in town today?" he asked softly, finally looking up at Lisbet. His blue eyes were piercing in the shade of the fabric stall.

"I didn't," she said, and she could feel her ears getting warm. "I've been carrying it with me to work every day for over a week, hoping to run into you."

The dimples made a very tentative reappearance. "Just how old is this food?"

"Well, actually it's fresh," she said. "The first batch I made was starting to go stale, so I served it. Gareth eats everything and he didn't notice that the tarts were almost hard as rocks. I made that batch last night."

"And may I ask how _pulp fiction_ reminded you of this?"

"...Pika fruit has pulp?" Lisbet offered hesitantly.

Ben finally chuckled, whatever uncertainty that had made him reserved now melting away in the midday heat. "Thank you. This will be a welcome change from my typical fare."

"I should probably mention that this is not entirely a selfless offering," she said, straightening the fabric scraps again. It had seemed like such a simple transaction in her mind when the idea occurred to her, but now she was unaccountably skittish. Apparently she wasn't very good at accepting favours either, much less asking for them.

"Oh?" he prompted.

"I'm starting to run low on sunblock," she said. "And I'm sure you can imagine how reluctant I am to return to the state of affairs I was in before you gave it to me two months ago."

"Of course," he smiled gently, inclining his head a measure. "The next time I'm in Anchorhead, I will bring you a fresh supply."

"Thank you," she said, relieved that Ben had agreed and secretly more than a little pleased that a side-effect of his promise was that she was guaranteed to see him again soon. "Do you go to Mos Eisley often?"

"Often enough." He ran a hand over his beard. "It's not the most pleasant place in the galaxy, but as a spaceport it trafficks information as much as anything else. Anchorhead is isolated in that respect."

"I thought you came to Tatooine for solitude," Lisbet said. "And yet you go wandering in search of news and conversation. I'm not sure that you understand the basic tenets of being a hermit."

"I never said I went to Mos Eisley for conversation," he said, looking away for a moment before returning his gaze to her face. "Only here."

It took a second for his meaning to sink in. "Oh," Lisbet replied as her heart became the only thing she could hear. Of course, the implication that he specifically sought her out to talk meant that she couldn't think of a single thing to say.

She didn't have to. Just then Oona rounded the corner, looking flustered with her white hair in a cloud of wild frizz around her face. "Close up the stall, girl - it's time."

"Time?" Lisbet echoed, completely thrown by this sudden change.

" _Solstice's_ time," Oona was clearly irritated to clarify.

Lisbet felt like she was thinking through molasses. "The baby!" she finally exclaimed, bursting into action for a split second until the rest of her brain caught up. "Wait - why do you need me?"

Oona gave her the most powerful _you're such an idiot_ look that she had ever received. "How do you expect to learn midwifery if you don't assist with births?"

"I'm not…" Lisbet balked, still totally lost. She wasn't trying to become a midwife!

Ben understood her confusion where Oona did not. "This is desert wisdom, passed down from one generation to the next," he explained. "You're the closest younger woman on hand, so you receive the training."

"Oh, of course," Lisbet nodded. That made sense - Tatooine was so cut off from modern medicine that it would be vital to pass on practical knowledge like this, and the more people that could deliver a baby, the better.

Oona clearly had not realized that it was Ben who had been standing there the whole time, because she did a double - a _triple_ \- take at him, and then her face twisted up in disgust. "What happened to your head?" she asked in a tone that strongly suggested he had made the worst misstep of his life.

Ben gave her a mild look. "I got a haircut."

The old weaver's scowl deepened, and Lisbet realized this must be the first time Oona had seen Ben since she cut his hair just over a month ago. Of course it had grown in a bit since then, but it was nowhere close to the length it had been before. Lisbet privately thought the new style suited him immensely; Oona clearly did not agree.

"And why would you do a thing like that?" Oona sniffed.

"I was told my previous style was unbearable and should be changed before it caused further insult," Ben said with the gravest sincerity and not even a flicker of an eyelid toward Lisbet, who was fighting to keep a straight face herself.

"Well had you consulted me, I would have told you to leave it," Oona said. "You look like a newborn with your hair like that."

"Speaking of newborns…" Ben said as he elegantly raised a brow.

It looked like Oona would have very much liked to continue driving her point home, but she couldn't linger after her previous urgency toward Lisbet. She fixed the latter with a stern look. "Finish closing up here and then come straightaway to Solstice and Myles' house. I expect you in no later than fifteen minutes."

"Yes, Oona," Lisbet said.

And with a one final, curt nod to Lisbet and narrowed eyes at Ben, Oona was gone.

"I grew this to stop the babyface comments," Ben said ruefully, rubbing his beard. "I suppose I should be flattered now."

Lisbet imagined him clean-shaven - and _stars_ , with those eyes and that smile he must have been formidable as a young man. But she preferred him now. He couldn't be much past his mid thirties, although she had never been a good judge of age.

"Can I help you close up?" he was asking, and she realized she was staring at him.

It was tempting to invent extra work and eke out as much as possible of the fifteen minutes that Oona had given her. It felt like she had only just started talking with Ben, and even with the promise of seeing him again soon... it wasn't _enough_. He would be long gone by the time she was free again today. "No, but thank you," she made herself say. "There's not much to do."

"In that case, I will not keep you from joining your friend," he answered, although he didn't seem to be in a hurry.

"I've- I've never attended a birth," Lisbet blurted out as the reality of the next several hours hit her.

"Not even your own?" He was trying to hide a smile and failing spectacularly.

"I was delivered by scheduled surgery," she replied primly. "Gareth used to tease me that I wasn't so much _born_ as _extracted_."

"How many years are between you?"

"Four, though some days it feels like I am the elder instead of he. Were you and your brother close in age?" It was such a natural question that it slid out without her quite meaning to ask it.

"No, I was, oh…" Ben paused, thinking. "I must have been fifteen years older. I'm sure there were times when he thought that he was the teacher and I the student, though." His face softened into a wistful half-smile.

"He was probably right," Lisbet said. "Younger siblings teach their family all sorts of things… like patience, and self-restraint, and tolerance… the list goes on." She grinned angelically at him, hoping to bring him back from the melancholy she had thoughtlessly tipped him into by bringing up his brother.

Ben didn't resurface completely, but his eyes brightened with humor. "It almost sounds like you knew him."

"I only speak from my own experience as a little sister," she said as she spread her hands in innocence.

They both knew it was time for her to go, but they still lingered a moment more, a companionable silence between them. It was Rooh who roused them by lipping softly at the nape of Ben's neck. He chuckled and tugged her head away with a gentle pressure on her reins.

"I should go and fetch her fodder," he said. "I hope your friend's delivery goes well. She will be glad to have you there."

"Thank you. I will see you sometime soon, I suppose?" She tried to pose the question as casually as possible.

He was already nudging Rooh in the right direction to leave. "Of course. Before your current supply of sunblock runs out."

Something settled calmly in her chest. _Of course she would see him sometime soon._

"Until then," she said, and if a grin lit up her whole face, well, who was she to stop it?

"Until then," he agreed, his lips curving into a soft smile of his own as he turned away.

Lisbet closed up the stall quickly, heart beating a little faster in her chest than normal. Then she took a moment to catch her breath and reorder her mind to the task at hand. Oona had once grumpily compared childbirth to warfare, and Lisbet had never felt less prepared in her life.

* * *

It was quite late by the time she got home that night. She could hear Gareth bustling around in the kitchen as she came through the front door. Usually she was the first one to finish work and start supper, but he was more than capable of doing the same on the rare occasion he made it home before she did, and this was his first night back after a four-night shift working guard duty.

He stuck his curly head out the kitchen door as she plopped onto the couch, exhausted. "You look like hell," he announced, and disappeared again.

"Solstice had her baby today," Lisbet said, dragging a hand down her face. "I've never seen so much blood and… _stuff_ , Gare. And they said it was a normal delivery even with all that! How did Mama do it? How does any woman do it?"

"Mothers are the backbone of the galaxy," Gareth's voice came floating in. "Come eat. Your timing is impeccable."

"It's a gift," Lisbet shrugged as she went into the combined kitchen and dining area.

Her brother gave her a suspicious once-over. "You don't still have any _stuff_ on you, do you?"

"No," she shuddered. "Oona had smocks for us to wear, to protect our clothes and for sanitation. Very practical, these Tatooin- Tatooinians? Tatooians? Tatoo-ates? What are they? How have we never thought about this until now?"

"Stars, you're tired, Lis," Gareth grinned as he nudged her into a seat at the table and set a full plate in front of her.

"I didn't even have a baby today and I feel like I could drop dead," she replied, her eyes glazed as she stared at her food.

"What did she have?" Gareth sat down across from her with his own plate and dug in with gusto.

"A boy," she said, taking a bite. "Mmm, this is good. They named him Corr, and he has hair so blond that he looks bald and blue eyes, although Oona said they'll probably change to brown when he's a few months old. Isn't it odd that human babies' eyes do that?"

Gareth was chewing, so he just nodded. "And how is Solstice doing?" he asked once he'd swallowed.

"Do you know, I think she could tame a wild bantha tomorrow? She was talking to me about the star-seventeen dance _while she was pushing_. She wanted to make sure that you can still help - apparently it's very important to her that she has enough manpower. I told her you could, although we haven't talked about it in a little while."

"Good," he nodded, perking up a little at the thought. "It sounds like fun. I didn't think parties even happened on Tatooine."

"Neither did I," Lisbet agreed. "Don't forget, it's in three weeks."

Gareth made a noncommittally agreeing sound around his mouthful of food. Now that Lisbet thought about it, there seemed to be something on his mind.

"Anyway," she said, changing tacks, "how have you been? I feel like I've hardly seen you since you started working nights."

"I've been alright." A pause, and then a giddy grin swept over his face. "I met someone."

"Oh?" Lisbet replied, a cautious smile tugging on her lips. Gareth had fallen in love all the time back home, and she supposed the only reason it had taken so long here was because there simply weren't many women to fall in love with. She wasn't quite sure how seriously to take him.

"Her name is Erys Farlance. She lives on the farm next to Kairon's," he said as he sobered a little. "Her father was killed by Sand People four years ago, but she and her mother kept on at the farm."

Lisbet was warming to the idea. "How did you two meet, then?"

"Playing errand boy, actually," Gareth said. "Kairon's wife needed something from Mrs Farlance, so she sent me over. Erys leveled a blaster rifle at me until I could gather my wits and prove that I work for the Wavers."

"Ah, love at first shot," Lisbet crooned, making her brother laugh.

"I can't blame her for being suspicious," he said. "For all she knew, I could have been one of Jabba's thugs."

"And when did this auspicious meeting take place?"

"Two days ago." He couldn't completely keep his smile off his face. "And I may have invented an excuse to go back today, on the way home."

"Oh?" Lisbet didn't even bother hiding her grin. "And was your reception more welcoming this time?"

"She invited me to stay for supper, but I didn't want you to worry so I only had some caff," he said.

"Thank you for considering me," Lisbet said. "I _would_ have worried if I hadn't known. But next time you should stay and eat supper."

"I really like her, Lis," Gareth said, his big eyes optimistic and vulnerable at the same time. "But I hate that you're alone in town so much. I'm gone so often with guard duty. Have you been alright?"

She thoughtfully finished the bite she was chewing. "At first I didn't like the house being so empty. And of course I miss you, but I've gotten used to it. I think I can manage lending you to Erys for a meal or two if she asks again."

"Are you telling me that you can actually survive without my sparkling banter and witty observations?" Gareth asked melodramatically.

"Only barely," she said, putting a hand over her heart with a pained expression.

"Truly though, Lis, I don't know how you cope with just seeing old Oona all day and talking about weaves and fabric weights and the like. It must bore you to tears."

"Well - actually, Gare-" At first it hadn't seemed worth mentioning her conversations with Ben to her brother despite his distrust for the _stranger from Coruscant_ as he called him. But now it seemed unfair to withhold the information from him, especially when the siblings were each other's longest confidante and friend. "Do you remember Ben?"

She could see Gareth sifting through memories, trying to place the name. "The man who lives out in the Waste?" he said after a moment, his face cautious.

"Yes," she nodded. "He comes into town sometimes, and we talk when he does. Now, I know you think he's crazy," she held up a hand to forestall Gareth's protest, "but he's not. I think you would like him if you two met."

Her brother didn't look convinced. "People don't just come to Tatooine without something to hide," he said. "Just look at us. You have to admit, on flimsi he sounds suspicious."

"On flimsi, yes," Lisbet conceded. "But that doesn't make him bad. He's very kind. Won't you reserve judgment until you've met him?"

Gareth's eyes softened, and he reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "Alright, Lis. You're a better judge of character than I am, anyway. Sorry I'm so cynical - old habits die hard."

She understood. He had spent so long as the Senator's bodyguard that the instinct to protect and defend was practically hardwired into him, and she was the last person he could guard anymore.

"We'll watch out for each other," she said, kicking him under the table to lighten the mood. "We always do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the progress has been slow between Lisbet and Obi-Wan, but I wanted to keep this as realistic as possible - I just don't see him moving fast with anyone on Tatooine, let alone romantically. I promise things finally start happening very soon. :)


	7. vellicate

"He's really beautiful, Solstice," Lisbet said, blowing softly on Corr's little face to make him smile. He had not been a beautiful newborn, but now at just over two weeks old his face had softened and he didn't look like a wrinkly, red old man anymore.

"Isn't he? He's perfect." Solstice had a pretty impressive pair of dark circles, but her eyes were expressive with love and contentment. "You know what I could do without, though? These post-partum hormones. I wept for a half an hour this morning when I realized that someone will hurt his feelings someday. Poor Myles came back from the refresher to find tears streaming down my face. I don't know what I'll do if a girl ever breaks my Corr's heart."

"You've got a while to go before you have to worry about that," Lisbet reassured her.

Solstice brushed over Corr's crop of white-blond hair with the pads of her fingers, gazing down at him. "You're right. For now I'll just worry about him sleeping through the night."

"Good luck," Lisbet smiled. "I should go, though. I want to finish sewing that dress in time for the dance."

"Thank you for coming over," Solstice said, pulling her friend into a hug. "I couldn't plan this star-seventeen without you. I can hardly believe it's less than a week away!"

"Time flies," Lisbet said, although it really hadn't for her. Her brother was gone more than ever, spending many of his free evenings at the Farlances to see Erys. Lisbet had tried not to intrude on Solstice's little family, especially since they were adjusting to a newborn. And Ben hadn't returned to town yet, when Lisbet had hoped he would have by now. As much as she reassured Gareth that she wasn't lonely - she was, a little.

She kissed Corr's forehead and said her goodbyes to Solstice, and then slipped out the door. Oona had dismissed her from work shortly after lunch, so Lisbet had gone to Solstice's house to finalize some things for the star-seventeen dance. Now it wasn't quite mid-afternoon, and she had hours before Gareth was due home.

Lisbet paused for a moment on the Sunfell's doorstep. She could go back through the marketplace, although there wasn't really anything she needed there and it wasn't on her way. A sneaky part of her brain whispered that it was the likeliest place for Ben to find her, but she stubbornly squashed the thought down. She was _not_ going to mope around Tosche Station on the slim chance that he would appear. No, she would go straight home and work on sewing, because waiting for someone to show up was definitely some shade of desperation.

With strengthened resolve (and a tinge of disappointment that she refused to acknowledge), Lisbet straightened her long grey tunic and marched purposefully toward home. She was already deep into arguing herself out of veering off in the direction of the market when she rounded a corner and nearly collided with an eopie.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, startled out of her thoughts as she drew up short.

"Hello there," Ben said, appearing around the eopie's other side with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry we surprised you."

"That's alright," Lisbet replied. She was so flustered by the unexpected meeting that she blurted out, "What are you doing here?" and then fought the urge to clamp both hands over her mouth at her own rudeness.

"Well, I-" A bit of a silly look crossed Ben's features, then melted into a smile. "I must confess, I was waiting for you."

"Oh?" She knew a giddy grin was about to spill across her whole face, so she did her best to moderate it by diverting her attention to Rooh. The eopie leaned into Lisbet's hand as she rubbed behind the blinder on her bridle.

"I saw you heading toward your friend's house while I was in the market," Ben explained. "But someone - I won't mention who - chose that moment to back into the fruit merchant's stall and overturn a great deal of the produce. By the time I had disentangled her from the merchant and smoothed things over, you were gone."

"There's really no need to blame Rooh," Lisbet said seriously. "I would have understood if you had a moment of clumsiness and caused the upset yourself."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Ben ducked his head, but not enough to hide his dimples. His eyes, when he returned his gaze to her, were bright, and for the first time she didn't notice their colour - only that there was something kindled in them, something warm and new. It made her breath stick to her lungs a little.

"At any rate," he was saying, "I neither wished to disturb your visit with your friend, nor to miss you again when you left. And so here you find me."

"Lurking in a back alleyway," Lisbet laughed, "waiting to meet me for a clandestine handoff, presumably. Let's not tell anyone that sunblock is the merchandise, and let them think we deal in spice."

"They would believe it of me," Ben said. "But I'm afraid I must disappoint you on both counts, because I have neither item."

"Oh," Lisbet said with a crinkle of confusion between her brows.

"I hope I have something better," he continued. "The main component of sunblock grows among the rocks in the Waste, but I was in the market to pick up the rest of its ingredients. With your permission, I could teach you how to make it for yourself so that you need not rely on me."

_I like relying on you,_ was her immediate, instinctive thought. But she forced herself to say, "How will I harvest the plant that grows only among the rocks in the Waste?"

"Well, I suppose you would still have to rely on me for that," he smiled, and that was enough.

"Alright," she said. "There should be enough space in my kitchen at home. Do I need any special tools?"

"No," he replied as they began to walk, Rooh pacing calmly in their shadows. "Only your hands and the common necessities in any kitchen."

"Well, I've got two of those," she said, wilting before the words were even completely out of her mouth but unable to stop talking. "Hands, I mean. Not two kitchens. Unless you count the small kitchen at the workshop, but that's not actually _mine_. So two hands, one kitchen." _Shut. Up._

Luckily, she was saved from her own rambling by their arrival at her home. This time felt much more natural than when he had been here last, when she had cut his hair two months ago. Now there was no hesitation or uncertainty; Ben simply nodded to the passageway toward the back of the house and said, "I'll just get Rooh settled."

Lisbet smiled in reply, and went inside to start tea. She had just finished measuring out the tea leaves when she heard his knock on the back door. "Come in," she called.

He did, the sunbeams silhouetting him for a moment in the doorway. He had one of Rooh's saddlebags under his arm, and he set it into one of the kitchen chairs.

"I thought we might have tea first," Lisbet said, pouring the steaming water over the leaves. "I already ate lunch with Solstice, but can I fix you a plate?"

"No, thank you. I ate at the cantina earlier," he replied. The kitchen area was barely big enough for two people, so he gestured to the table. "May I sit?"

"Of course," she said. Remembering that he took his tea plain, she stirred sugar into only hers and then brought both cups over to join him at the table.

"Thank you," he said as he accepted his cup from her and took a sip. "This brew reminds me of the house blend from one of the suppliers on Coruscant."

"That's why I got it," she replied, blowing curlicues of steam across the lip of her teacup. "It smelled familiar. It's a little different though, more bitter. I didn't need sugar in the other."

"Lisbet," Ben said softly, "why did you really leave Coruscant?"

She looked up at him, startled. Ben's brows were furrowed a little, but it was more attentive concern than anger or confusion. Lisbet opened her mouth once, shut it, and set her cup down on the table. She was too thrown to get her feet under her.

"What makes you think I lived on Coruscant at all?" she stalled.

"Unless we are remembering very different specialty blends, that tea was not exported off-planet," Ben said. "You have often referred to your employer as _her Ladyship_ , but you once mentioned that she was married to a senator. And when we first met, you said the reason you left the Core was because your parents died, but then later you told me that they passed when you were a child."

Lisbet looked down at her hands. She thought she had been careful with their cover story. Now, she knew she should feel foolish for being caught out simply because Ben had paid attention to details. But she didn't - she felt _relieved_. She had trusted him with her parent's deaths, and her heart suddenly ached to trust him with this, too. Still, telling him would give him power over not only her, but her brother as well.

"Gareth and I have kept it a secret because we aren't sure if people knowing the truth will put them in danger," Lisbet finally said.

"I would like to know all the same," he replied, and his eyes were guarded.

She smiled wanly. "By knowing, you could put _us_ in danger."

"Danger from whom?" he asked quietly.

Even the answer to that was a clue. Lisbet knew from their previous conversations that they could talk in circles around each other until their tea evaporated in the desert air. Either she had to cut him off and send him away, or take the leap of faith.

She leapt.

"The Empire," she answered, hating how small her voice sounded. The word seemed to narrow Ben's already serious interest into laser focus, but he didn't interrupt her. "Most of what I've told you is true. I was a handmaiden, my brother was a security officer. We worked for Senator Tibirian and his wife, Lady Sarela, of Hosnian Prime. Their household staff was fairly small when they lived on Coruscant to attend Senate sessions, and Gareth and I were part of it."

Lisbet paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. Ben listened with quiet intensity.

"Five and a half months ago," she continued, "Senator Tibirian publicly opposed the Emperor's plans to produce more clone soldiers. I remember her Ladyship telling me how she thought him foolish but brave, and that she loved him all the more for standing up for his morals even though they were received coldly in the Senate. There were whispers the next day that he may be reprimanded, perhaps asked to take a sabbatical."

Ben was no longer looking at her. He had drawn back a bit, stroking his beard. She wondered how much a pilot would ever tangle in politics, and whether he understood the intricacies of the Senate.

"A few days later, the Senator and Her Ladyship were going to visit a friend in another district and their shuttle would only comfortably hold five, so they took the other three members of staff and let Gareth and I have the afternoon off. It had been a long time since our free time coincided, so we agreed beforehand to go to the theatre. After everyone left I was getting impatient, waiting for Gareth to finish his security checks."

She took a breath, willing her voice to be steady. "I was about to go find him when he burst into the apartments, his face white as a sheet, and asked me if I could reach the shuttle on my commlink. He was too frantic to explain why, and when I couldn't get through, he turned on the holonet. It was all over the news - Senator Tibirian's shuttle had crashed, and everyone in it was dead."

Ben had returned his gaze to her face, and now his eyes were sad. "I'm sorry, Lisbet," was all he said, perhaps sensing there was more to come.

"The reporters spun it as an accident, but it wasn't," she said. "Gareth has always been clever with tech, and he'd set up a scanner to listen for any mention of Senator Tibirian in radio chatter. He had kept me waiting that day because he was trying to decode a partial transmission that he had received, but when he'd pieced enough together to realize what it meant, it was too late."

"The shuttle was sabotaged," Ben said.

"Yes," Lisbet said, "by order of the Emperor."

Ben did not seem surprised.

"We fled the same day," she continued. "Everything about Warwick is true, too - he was the only family we had left and we didn't know he was dead. We didn't have anywhere else to go. Gareth was so afraid, so angry. We were sure that if the Emperor knew we had survived, or worse that we knew he was behind the crash, he would have us killed too. So we disappeared."

"You were right to flee," Ben said after a moment of absorbing everything she had said. "The Emperor is evil."

Lisbet picked up her cooling tea again, if only to have something to do with her hands. "I just… miss my home."

"I understand," he replied, looking down as his voice dropped to a murmur. "I miss mine, too."

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Both knew that there weren't words that could even begin to help, so neither tried. Though her eyes were dry, Lisbet felt as if she'd had a good cry. She hadn't realized how much the secret had weighed on her heart - and there was no doubt in her mind that it was safe in Ben's keeping.

"Ben," she said after a little while, smiling softly to help ease the awkwardness of changing subjects after an emotional confession. "Will you teach me how to make the sunblock?"

"Of course," he said, already standing up and reaching for the saddlebag he had brought in. "We will need a few bowls, a knife, and something to mix with."

He began to lay out ingredients on her counter and she stretched to reach past him to pull down a stack of mixing bowls from the cabinet. The kitchen was very small, and it turned into a bit of a dance to fit both of them in it. There was room for two - but only if they didn't mind being close.

Lisbet wedged herself into a corner by the stove to give him space. He smelled of clean sweat and soap, and it was quickening her heart-rate a little more than she wanted to admit. It took her a moment to refocus on what he was saying.

"All of these ingredients are slightly protective when melted together," he explained, gesturing to what he had brought. There were two kinds of oil, pellets of wax, and several plants. "But when the stems and leaves of the dried pika plant are crushed, the resulting powder is a much more effective sunblock."

"How thoughtful of this planet to provide a solution for its own suns," Lisbet said as she watched his sure, steady hands begin to work.

Ben smiled, measuring out portions of the oils into a pot. One was white and fatty, but she knew it would melt with heat. The wax pellets followed the oils into the mixture and he handed it to her. "This should go over low temperature."

She turned the nanowave stove to its lowest setting and stirred the three ingredients together so that they would warm up evenly. There was a particular comfort in making something from nothing, and while she hadn't forgotten the heaviness of their conversation earlier, the sting of memory had passed.

"How did you learn this recipe?" she asked.

Ben picked up a handful of spindly green scrub and began to crumble it. "A survival course in school," he answered. "I had forgotten all about it until I saw this growing out in the Waste. It's a common desert plant, since it needs so little moisture to thrive. Still, it took some trial and error to remember the preparation in full."

"That's a strange survival skill to teach a pilot," Lisbet said. His focus was on the task at hand, so she felt like she could study his face a little more openly. Some of his hair had fallen across his forehead and she wished she could brush it away.

"Keep stirring," Ben said with a nod toward the pot. The edges of the mixture were already starting to bubble, and she hurriedly swirled the spoon through it. "The oil smells terrible if it burns - don't ask me how I know. Do you have a pestle?"

"Do you mean this?" Lisbet reached into a cabinet and pulled out her best guess. The kitchen had come with several things she had never used before.

"Perfect," he said, taking it from her. Within a few minutes, he had ground the crumbled plant into a fine powder. He added it to the pot, and as Lisbet stirred it into the now-melted mixture, it turned everything a pale green.

"This is simpler than I thought it would be," she confessed. "I thought surely it would take some act of magic."

"I'm afraid I have no such powers," he replied mildly. "And we are almost done. Turn off the heat, and once it cools we will add the last ingredient. This plant requires a subtle hand to prepare." Ben picked up a flat, thick leaf about the length and width of Lisbet's forearm.

"Oh! Solstice gave me a sproutling that looked like that. She said it would help my sunburn, but I didn't know what to do with it," she said. The plant smelled nice, so Lisbet had put it on her bedside table. It was the only green thing in the room.

"Yes, the sap does soothe irritated skin as well as prevent it from drying out," Ben nodded. "It's also used in this sunblock to keep the consistency even. Here, let me show you how to extract it."

He deftly sliced off the spiked edges of the leaf, then laid his hand flat across the top of it. Lisbet's cooking experience was limited to very simple meals and a few baked goods, so she gasped when he started to carefully cut away the plant's skin under his palm.

"Won't you cut yourself?" she asked, unconsciously moving toward him so she could see better.

"Not if I'm careful." Ben angled his body to let her get closer. Lisbet didn't notice it, but his face softened at her curiosity. He set down the knife and stepped back a pace. "Here. Would you like to try?"

"I'll _definitely_ cut myself," Lisbet said, shaking her head.

"Not if you're careful," he replied with a hint of a smile.

It was half challenge and half encouragement, which was exactly what she needed. She took his place at the counter and picked up the small knife, hesitantly putting her other hand across the plant the way he had. Since Ben had already started slicing it, she just had to pick up where he had left off. But as soon as she began, she could tell she wasn't getting as fine a result as he had.

"I don't think I'm doing it right," she frowned.

"May I?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied, thinking that he would take over. She had barely started to shift out of the way when his hands closed over hers around the knife and across the leaf, and he was very close behind her, and her heart suddenly didn't fit in her ribcage anymore.

"Like this," he said softly, his breath tickling the fine hairs at her temple as he interlaced their fingers flat to hold the plant steady.

Lisbet was profoundly, exquisitely aware of every centimeter they touched. His hands, of course - but also his inner arms against her elbows, his chest against her shoulder blade, the toe of his boot against her heel. If she moved the slightest measure backward, their bodies would be flush together.

She slowly realized that Ben was showing her how to prepare the plant again, but this time guiding her hands. It was a good thing he was doing most of the work, because she was pretty sure she had lost all the fine motor control in her fingers.

"Mm hmm," she agreed dumbly to whatever he was doing. He could have been carving a detailed replica of a starfighter and she wouldn't have been able to pay much attention when her skin was blazing under her clothes where they were in contact.

The spell was abruptly broken by her brother's voice. " _Lis?_ "

Lisbet was so startled that she skittered backwards, bumping into Ben. He stepped back a pace or two to give her space, and she felt the absence of him almost as strongly as she had felt his proximity.

"Gareth," she said, her voice a little higher than normal. He had just come in the back door, and she could read his body language like a holobook - he had shifted into threat-assessment posture, and his face was only barely courteous.

"Gareth," she repeated in a rush. "This is Ben."

Her brother was a big man, and he knew how to use his stature to its full effect. Most people gave way to him without question. But even though Gareth surpassed him by at least four inches, Ben didn't seem bothered at all. _Maybe he grew up around tall people,_ a tiny, detached pocket of Lisbet's mind wondered.

"Hello," Ben said calmly, extending a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Lisbet has spoken very warmly of you."

Lisbet recognized it as a greeting deliberately designed to put Gareth at ease, but her brother didn't loosen up in the slightest. He did at least shake Ben's hand, though every line of his body radiated tension.

"Hello," was all he replied.

"You're home early," Lisbet said before the silence could build. "Is everything alright?"

"I remembered you had a half-day today," he said. "I asked Kairon if I could leave early so that we could spend the afternoon together. I've barely seen you in weeks."

"Oh," she replied, not sure what to feel. She _did_ miss her brother and was glad that he had made time for her - but why did it have to be _now_ , when Ben's arms around her had ignited something deep in the pit of her belly?

"Your plans need not change," Ben said. He was so calm, so completely unruffled. "All that remains to be done with your sunblock is to add the sap to the mixture and allow it to cool. You do not need my guidance for that."

Lisbet felt herself wilt a little. Of course he would offer to go - but she had somehow expected him to be a bit more reluctant about it, instead of this relaxed composure that he wore. With some effort, she schooled her features to match his ease.

"Of course," she said. "Thank you so much for the lesson. Can I-?"

He was already packing up the leftover ingredients, his hands quick and sure. She fought herself not to stare at them - hands that had so recently closed over her own to guide them.

"Please let us reimburse you for the supplies," her brother said gruffly.

"Oh no," Ben said with a smile. "That's not necessary."

"I insist," Gareth said, moving just enough to block Ben's exit.

The shift in Ben's stance was much more subtle, some kind of defensive posture that was even older and more innate than Gareth's training. Ben still looked completely relaxed, but his air had changed into casual power. "Thank you," he said, "but it really isn't necessary."

"I already paid him back," Lisbet said, knowing Gareth hated owing anybody. It was technically true, too; she had given Ben the basket of food a few weeks ago. "I'm sure I will see you in town, Ben," she hurried on to say. The whole situation had gotten so uncomfortably tense that the only thing she knew to do was get Ben and Gareth apart. "I'll let you know how I do with the remainder of your recipe. Safe travels back to your home."

"Thank you, Lisbet," Ben said, tucking the saddlebag back under his arm. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Gareth."

"You too," her brother replied, and with that Ben was gone. Gareth turned toward Lisbet as soon as the door was closed behind him. "Are you sure about him, Lis?"

"What do you mean?" She brushed past him to return to the unfinished sunblock.

"The two of you alone in the house? He could have hurt you."

The first reaction that jumped into her throat was irritation. The idea of Ben hurting her was so patently ridiculous that she was appalled that Gareth would even think of it. But as she turned to glare at him, she saw the worried look in his eyes. She sighed, softening.

"I trust him," she said firmly so that he would see her sincerity. "Yes, it's a little odd that he lives alone in the Waste - but it's only because he's sad."

"He doesn't _look_ sad," Gareth grumbled, uncoiling a measure but not quite ready to completely acquiesce.

"No, he doesn't," Lisbet agreed. "But he _is_."

"Do you think…" He trailed off as if searching for the right words. "Lis, do you think he's pursuing you?"

She opened her mouth to answer, and then paused. She hadn't framed the question to herself quite so bluntly before, but if Gareth had asked it a half an hour earlier she wasn't sure how she would answer. Now she was remembering how serene Ben had been after they were interrupted. If he had felt the same crackling, delicious tension between them when his arms were around her, it hadn't shown at all.

"No," she decided, turning back to the last of the plant on the countertop so that Gareth wouldn't see the look on her face. "He's just a friend."

She heard her brother's soft sigh from the doorway. "I'm going to clean up while you finish your work. Then I thought we might watch a holodrama, or just talk and catch up."

A half-smile blossomed on her lips despite her muddled mood. Whenever Gareth said catch up it meant that he wanted to ask her about girls. He _had_ been talking to Erys a lot lately, and it was just about time for him to be confused about something.

"That sounds nice," she said. "Maybe you can cook me supper. But go take a sonic before you stink up the whole place."

He stuck his tongue out at her over his shoulder as he went out the door, and she grinned angelically in reply. As soon as he was gone, though, she leaned against the counter and let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. If she closed her eyes, it wasn't too hard to imagine Ben's arms around her again.

_No,_ she told herself sharply, returning to the last few steps of the sunblock. _Don't be foolish. He's not for you._

But that didn't mean she could forget the warmth of him behind her.

* * *

**vellicate,** _(v., English)_ , to touch lightly so as to excite the surface nerves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I would love to hear what you think. :)


	8. voorpret

Lisbet stretched luxuriously in bed. It was the morning of Tavrie's star-seventeen dance, and there was so much preparation to be done that Oona had excused her from work that day. She would still spend all day at the community center helping Solstice, but it was a later start than normal and Lisbet had enjoyed every second of extra sleep.

She knew it was time to start the day, though, so with one last stretch Lisbet pushed herself out of bed. She dressed practically, although she had finished making a new dress from the floral fabric that Oona had given her several weeks ago. She would change later, just before the dance and after the prep was done.

"Gare?" she asked, knocking on her own door. Their house was so small that it only had one bedroom, which Lisbet took, while Gareth slept in the living room on the oversized couch. It wasn't ideal, but there wasn't any other solution. It meant that to preserve some semblance of privacy, she knocked to leave her room when he was home.

"It's fine," he called in reply. She opened the door to see him packing his overnight bag like he did when he worked guard duty.

"Good morning," she said, unsure. He still had to work that day, but he shouldn't be staying over at the farm tonight since he was coming back in the afternoon to help with the dance.

"I'm glad you're up, Lis," he said. "Erys commed me this morning. She saw Sand People scouting out near her farm late yesterday, so she was up all night on guard. She and her mother can't afford to hire help like Kairon, but she asked me…" He trailed off, looking apologetic.

"Of _course_ you should go," Lisbet said as she hurried toward him and put a hand on his arm.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I'll have to break my word about helping with the dance."

Lisbet waved that away. "Solstice will understand. And I can't imagine being alone out on the farm like Erys and her mother. They'll appreciate the company."

"Thanks, Lis," Gareth said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her cheek. "I'm going to stop by there before I work my shift at Kairon's. See you in a day or two - tell me all about the dance when I get back."

"Be safe," Lisbet said to his back as he disappeared out the door. She had long ago learned how to crush down the worry when he left, since he had worked potentially dangerous jobs for their entire adult lives. Still, she wished that he could have stayed and joined her for the party.

A half hour later, Lisbet was barely two steps through the door of the community center when Solstice pounced on her, little Corr tucked cozily into a soft wrap at her chest.

"Lissy! Thank goodness you've arrived. I feel like I've been here an age, just thinking about everything that has to get done. You're just in time before I lose my mind with worry."

"We'll get everything done. How is little man this morning?" Lisbet asked, peeking at the baby's face. His lashes were so long that they touched his chubby cheeks.

"Asleep, the little lazybones," Solstice said as she gently caressed his head through the wrap and smiled down at him. "More's the better for us. Did I mention we have a lot to do? Is Gareth coming later?"

"About that," Lisbet said with an apologetic wince. "He can't make it. Erys is worried about Sand People, and he went to help watch her farm. He'll be gone all night at least, I think. He sends his apologies."

"Hmm," Solstice pondered. "That's bad timing, but I can't say I'm displeased. Did you know it was my idea for Momma to send him to Erys' farm in the first place? I'll be a matchmaker yet. Well, we will just have to make do without him. Myles had a delivery to one of the farms first thing this morning, but he's picking up the bantha meat on his way home and will join us after lunch. Now, let's start decorating!"

Relieved that Solstice wasn't too disappointed by Gareth's absence, Lisbet followed her into the store rooms at the community center. There wasn't much by way of actual decor in Anchorhead, but Solstice had managed to piece together an impressive spread of repurposed items. There wasn't a clear theme other than _made as pretty as possible given the circumstances_ , which Lisbet supposed was as much as a teenaged girl from Tatooine could ask for.

They spent the morning transforming the plain auditorium into a dance hall of sorts. Luckily, one thing they had in abundance was fabric, since Oona had grudgingly loaned them the unsold pieces from her last shipment to Mos Eisley. Solstice was completely useless at draping, but Lisbet had an eye for it and the fabric made the space colourful and soft.

"Some rich lady in the Core is missing your decorating talents, Lissy," Solstice sighed as they stood back to survey their hard work. "I know it's selfish, but I'm grateful you're here to help me. This really will be the most beautiful star-seventeen ever!"

Lisbet was glad she didn't have to tell her that there was no one left in the Core to miss them. "Let's break for lunch," she said instead. It was past noon by then, and they hadn't stopped except for Solstice to feed and change Corr when he woke up.

"Yes, I'm famished," Solstice agreed. "We have to pick up the rest of the supplies for dinner at the market, anyway. Let's have something quick to eat at the cantina on the way. Maybe we'll run into Myles in town, too."

"Alright," Lisbet said. She didn't go to the cantina often, but she hadn't packed a meal and she liked the idea of sitting for a half an hour.

Solstice paid for her lunch - "a meagre repayment for services rendered" - and the cantina wasn't particularly crowded in the middle of the day, so they ate in comfortable silence. They were just finishing their meal when Lisbet saw Solstice's brows shoot up as a delighted grin swept over her whole face.

"I don't mean to overstate it," Solstice said in a conspiratorial whisper, "but I think our saviour just walked in."

"Our saviour?" Lisbet whispered back, wrinkling her nose in confusion. She looked over her shoulder to see what Solstice meant. When she saw Ben approaching the bar, she whipped back away just as fast, trying to look casual. "What, ah, what do you mean saviour?"

"You have to ask him to help tonight of course, silly," Solstice rolled her eyes. "We're down a man, and he's perfect."

"But you said you didn't mind Gareth bowing out," Lisbet said, looking down into her caff as she swirled it. She hadn't seen Ben since telling him the truth about leaving Coruscant and Gareth interrupting them just over a week ago, and she hadn't really puzzled out how she felt about it.

"I was just being nice about it," Solstice said. "We really do need the extra hands. And this dance is for _teenagers_ , Lissy. The more chaperones the better."

"Don't you think some of their parents might object to Ben being a chaperone? He's not very well-known in town." Lisbet knew she was overthinking it to some extent, but the idea of spending an entire evening with Ben made her nervous and electrified in equal measure.

"That just makes him perfect," Solstice answered her. "Your brother is too nice and no one is afraid of him. Ben is mysterious, and that makes him intimidating. Why, one look from him could probably scare a rutty teenaged boy right back to his senses. Oh, Lissy, you have to ask him to help us. I don't want to oversee the first star-seventeen that begets a pregnancy in over a decade."

Lisbet had honestly not considered this angle, and the prospect of constantly pulling apart hormonal young couples made her blanch. "Surely it's not as bad as that?"

"It's not as if it's an orgy," Solstice said. "But some of the braver ones think that adults are stupid and try to sneak away. But don't you change the subject! Here, I'll give you an excuse to go to the bar." She drained her caff in two long pulls, then shoved the empty cup toward Lisbet. "Get me a refill."

"Shouldn't you ask him?" Lisbet said. "You're the one in charge."

"Don't be ridiculous," Solstice said, scoffing over Corr's head as she readjusted him in the carrier. "He'll never say yes if I ask him."

"I don't know that he'll say yes if I do," Lisbet warned her as she stood.

"Oh, Lissy, you're _adorable_ ," Solstice crooned. "Now hurry up, we still have heaps to do before Tavrie and her friends get into town at four."

It was clear that she couldn't refuse without causing a scene, and Solstice would probably just ask Ben anyway. Lisbet picked up her friend's empty cup and made a face at her, which only earned her a laugh and a _shoo_ -ing hand motion.

Ben turned before Lisbet got to the bar, and if his face didn't quite register surprise, then at least there was a bemused crinkle between his brows. "Hello," he said as she came up beside him.

"Hello," she said to him, suddenly very unsure of how to act and wishing that she had thought this through. Every word she had ever spoken in her life completely left her and she set the cup down on the bar while making very direct eye contact with the barkeep - mostly because he _wasn't_ Ben and therefore couldn't make her blush just with his eyes.

"What'll you have?" the barkeep asked as he wiped a tumbler dry.

"Another caff, please," Lisbet managed to say, horribly and utterly aware of how aggressively she was ignoring Ben. It took an enormous force of will, but she choked down her own racing heart and faced him. "How are you this afternoon?"

"I'm well, thank you," he said. "I trust you had no difficulties in finishing your sunblock?"

"It turned out just like the first batch you gave me," she said, colouring a little at the reminder of his arms around her, how he had been close enough to feel the warmth of his skin.

The barkeep plunked a steaming cup of caff down in front of her. "Refills are one credit."

"Oh," she fumbled both for words and for her bag before realizing she left it at her seat across from Solstice. "I'll just go get-"

"Let me," Ben cut in, already reaching for his belt.

"No no no," Lisbet rushed to say, then awkwardly fell silent. She could feel her face getting hotter, since not only was Ben clearly confused by how forcefully she had spoken, but now the barkeep was giving her a strange look.

This was going _not_ going well. Where had their easy rapport gone?

She blocked out the barkeep and turned to Ben, whose eyes were patient (and mostly blue in this lighting) and more importantly, not laughing at her. "You can't do me a favour when I'm about to ask you for another," she explained. " _I_ should be buying _you_ a drink, not the other way around."

"Maybe you can pay _me_ a favour and we'll call it even," the barkeep smirked at Lisbet.

"That's really not necessary," Ben said. He already had a credit chit in his hand, and he passed it over with a slight flourish of his fingers.

"Yeah, it's really not necessary," the barkeep mumbled in agreement, pocketing the payment as he turned away to serve other customers.

"Thank you," Lisbet said, looking down into the caff for a second before returning her eyes to Ben. Stars, he was so _beautiful_ , all warm tones and clean soap smell. Something uncoiled within her.

"There's a dance tonight," she said. "They call it a star-seventeen here, but it's much like any other coming-of-age party across the galaxy. I've been planning it with Solstice, and my brother agreed to help chaperone, until urgent business came up this morning, and- well-"

"You need another chaperone," he supplied as she trailed off.

Lisbet grimaced. "You know what teenagers can be like. But it's not just that - there's still a so much prep to finish, and lots of heavy-lifting, and keeping everything running smoothly _during_ the dance itself, and clean-up after, and - well - I know it's it's a big favour, but _I_ volunteered Gareth and I feel responsible for him not coming, and it would help me out so much, and -" She floundered, still skittish of asking outright but too committed to back out completely.

"Heavy-lifting _and_ clean-up duty, you say?" Ben said thoughtfully, stroking his beard as if contemplating a serious contract, and in that moment Lisbet knew he would agree.

"Solstice plans to cook up a feast," she tried not to grin too much. "I can only imagine how many pots and pans will need to be scrubbed later."

"As it happens, washing dishes is my speciality," he said with a quiet smile. "When should I arrive?"

"Well, we have to pick up the supplies for the aforementioned feast, and we could use some help," Lisbet said.

"I'll join you shortly, then," he replied, "once I settle with the cantina owner about stabling Rooh for longer than usual."

"Thank you, Ben," she said, impulsively reaching out to put a hand on his forearm. "You're a lifesaver."

"I come to serve," he said as he inclined his head.

"I'll see you in a few minutes, then," Lisbet smiled. She lingered for a second longer than necessary, reluctant to leave even though she knew they would spend the rest of the evening in proximity. These glimpses of him for one day with weeks in between - they weren't enough. Fleetingly she wondered what _would_ satisfy her, how much time spent in his company would be enough for her to leave him without a longing ache in her ribs.

"Until then," he said with an answering smile, and she pulled her hand away. The cup of caff was warm against her palm as she picked it up and headed back to her booth.

Solstice greeted her with a beaming grin. " _And?_ "

" _And_ , here's your refill," Lisbet said, sliding it across the tabletop.

"Don't play coy, Lissy." She bounced a little in her seat, which elicited a surprised hiccup from Corr in his carrier. His eyes drifted closed again as soon as Solstice settled and put a hand to his back through the fabric sling. "I saw the way you looked at Ben. When is he coming?"

"Finish your caff," Lisbet nodded at the cup. "We still have lots to do, and it won't take long for Ben to settle up and join us."

"A- _ha_!" Solstice crowed. "I _knew_ he would agree if you did the asking. Corr, your mummy is a genius." She kissed the crown of his little head, and his lips curved in sleep. She grinned at Lisbet and started to stand. "Look, he's getting up. I think he's ready."

Lisbet grabbed her things to keep up with her friend, who had already taken off toward to the bar. And since Solstice clearly wasn't going to drink the refill of caff, Lisbet shrugged and chugged half of it down in one go. It was still hot and she coughed around the bitter taste as she returned the cup to the table. With a grimace, she hurried after Solstice.

"Lissy tells me you have agreed to help us," Solstice was saying effusively to Ben as Lisbet rejoined them. "I'm so glad she thought to ask you when she saw you - she's so clever. And how lucky that you were here today!"

Ben caught Lisbet's eye while Solstice's attention turned down to Corr for a moment, and they shared a smile.

"I am told that there is a feast to be bought and made," he said mildly as Solstice looked back up at him.

"Yes! There's heaps to do, and Lissy and I must be done by four. It's going to be wonderful!" And with that, Solstice was heading out the door.

"Did you notice that she had a baby three weeks ago?" Lisbet said to Ben, marveling at her friend's energy while they followed her. "I don't know how she does it. I'm certain that childbirth will take more out of me."

A strange look washed over Ben's face as they stepped into the bright midday sunshine. "Are you…?"

It took a beat for her to piece together the conclusion to his question. " _No_ ," she practically choked in her haste. " _No._ I just meant theoretically, as a possibility, in the theoretical future, theoretically. Purely speculative."

"So, just to clarify," Ben said, looking so serious that she knew he was teasing, "you were speaking theoretically?"

Lisbet had to laugh despite herself. "Come on. We'll lose Solstice if we don't hurry up."

Solstice had prearranged with all the necessary merchants to have their supplies ready by noon, and she clipped through her checklist with cheerful precision. First the fruit vender for enough pika, zucca, and pallie fruit for dessert, and then to the produce seller, who nearly toppled the grav sled with his pallet of tatoes. Ben helped balance the heavy load of food, Solstice chatting radiantly all the while. Somewhere along the way Corr woke up and watched what he could see of the world with bright, blinking eyes.

By the time they got back to the community center, Myles was there with a delivery of his own - a massive cut of bantha meat that would be the main course. It was so heavy that it took both Myles and Ben to unload it to the kitchen in the back of the building.

Solstice was in her element, organizing where everything needed to go and what else needed to get done. Eventually she sent Ben and Lisbet (with a conspiratorial wink at the latter) to the kitchen to work through all the meal prep while she and Myles finished setting up the auditorium.

"I must confess that when I planned galas back home, I never stopped to consider how much work went into preparing food," Lisbet said to Ben as she set down a heavy portion of tatoes with a huff of effort. She stared at it for a second, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of produce to be peeled and sliced.

Ben had already shed his outer tunic in preparation his own task, which was to break down the bantha haunch into steaks. He looked impossibly elegant with the sleeves of his brown undershirt rolled up and the long half-apron tied around his waist.

He looked askance between the wickedly long vibroblade in his hand and the huge slab of meat on the table. "I must confess that I've never butchered anything of this size before," he replied with a wry glance at her. "Perhaps I was a little overconfident when Myles asked if I would mind this job."

"My grandmother always told me _fake it until you make it_ , and she would say the same thing to you if she were here." Lisbet brightened into laughter at the thought before deepening her voice to imitate her. "You only have to _believe_ in yourself, Benjin, and you can butcher _anything_."

He chuckled as he went around to the other side of the haunch, presumably to come up with a plan of attack. "I had no idea my full name was Benjin," he said.

"She liked full names," Lisbet explained, settling into a rhythm of tatoe peeling. "Even if she didn't know whether Ben was short for anything, she would have made something up. Sometimes she would call me _Elisebeta_ , just because it sounded longer. Especially if she was scolding me."

"But that's not your full name?"

"No," she said. "Just Lisbet. Is yours shortened?"

"No," he replied, "just Ben."

They talked while they worked the afternoon away. Ben mostly asked questions about Lisbet's grandparents and life on Hosnian Prime, but he also told her a little about his father, who she imagined as the kind of person who made you feel safe. It was clear that Ben still missed him despite the many years since his passing, though he never said it in so many words.

After several hours, both Lisbet and Ben had finished their original tasks and had gotten through most of the next, which was pitting and slicing fruit for dessert tarts. They were interrupted by Tavrie and Solstice's mother. Keida Waver was shorter than her daughters and had silvery strands in her dark hair, and she smiled kindly when she came through the door.

"Oh, hello, Ben," she said, extending a hand until she realized his were covered in juice. "We've never met, but my sister-in-law has mentioned you. Thank you for helping today."

Ben wiped his hands to shake Keida's with the very faintest of tightening in his smile while Lisbet made no attempt to hide hers. Oona clearly had no qualms discussing her infatuation of Ben with her family.

"And is she here today…?" he asked politely.

"Oh no, no," Keida said dismissively. "But perhaps we won't tell her that you've filled in for Gareth until after the fact, hmm? But I'm forgetting my purpose. Lisbet, I've brought Tavrie and her friends into town with me, and Solstice hopes you are ready to go help them dress."

"Of course," she replied with a glance at the chrono over the door. Time had flown; it was already a quarter after four. Once Solstice had found out the Lisbet was trained as a hairdresser she had begged her to style the girls' hair for the party, and they had to be back to the community center by six. She glanced back at the massive bowl of prepped fruit that she and Ben had nearly finished.

Keida anticipated her question. "I'll take over here. Although," she twinkled maternally at Ben, "I'm afraid I don't get to make Oona jealous by keeping her handsome swain here with me. The musicians have arrived, and it sounds like Myles could use some extra manpower in the auditorium to help them set up."

"I would be happy to," Ben said, extending an arm to Lisbet. "May I walk you out?"

She slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow, charmed by the old-fashioned offer. Neither of them noticed Keida's knowing smile at their backs as they left.

"I'll be back in an hour or two," Lisbet said as they walked down the hall from the kitchen to the main room. "Thank you again for staying to help. Wait-" A thought occurred to her. "How will you get home tonight? The dance won't end until very late."

"There are a few rooms for hire in the back of the cantina where I stabled Rooh," Ben replied.

By then they had made it to the auditorium, which was buzzing with several more people than before. Tavrie and three of her close friends were circled around Solstice, while Myles reappeared through a back door, bearing what looked like sound equipment.

"Excuse me," Ben said to Lisbet just as the teenagers' attention started to switch from Corr to them. He spared her a smile before slipping away in Myles' direction to help with the musicians' gear. Lisbet followed him with her eyes until he disappeared out the door.

"It looks so _good_ in here," Tavrie enthused as she came over and grabbed Lisbet's hands. The other girls followed, all buzzing together in excitement over the upcoming evening. Solstice followed and nudged Lisbet with her hip, wiggling her eyebrows.

"You're welcome," she said with a pointed look in direction that Ben had gone.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Lisbet replied primly, putting an arm around Tavrie's shoulders. "Come on, birthday girl - let's get you ready for the party."

Half an hour later and the entire lot of them were piled in Lisbet's tiny house, all the teens giggling and chattering like magpies while Lisbet began to work on the first of several complicated braided hairstyles. Solstice had come for a little while too, if only to join in the revelry and change from her workclothes into a summery dress.

The scene was so reminiscent of her Ladyship's chambers before a gala that Lisbet had choke back a lump in her throat. It wasn't hard to push the melancholy away, though. The girls' delight was infectious, and a whole evening of merriment lay before them.

* * *

 **voorpret,** _(n., Dutch)_ , pre-fun; the sense of enjoyment felt before a party or event takes place.

* * *


	9. indak

Lisbet pressed a hand to her forehead and exhaled softly through her nose. Tavrie and her three friends had just left, taking their chatter and energy with them, and now she had a few minutes to change before following them. As much as she had enjoyed hosting the girls and helping them get ready, it was nice to now have a few minutes of quiet in the midst of a busy day.

A day that wasn't over yet, she reminded herself as she pulled out her newly made dress from her cramped closet. Oona had given her the material weeks ago, yards and yards of beautiful cream silk with jewel-tone flowers scattered into the folds. Lisbet had never fully made a dress on her own before, but with careful patience she had turned the fabric into a simple gown.

Slipping into it almost felt like becoming a different person. Lisbet had only worn trousers since arriving on Tatooine – at first to maintain the deception that she was a boy at Jabba's palace, and then simply out of convenience once they came to Anchorhead. Now she touched the flowing skirt, reacquainting herself with the way the material whispered around her legs and flattered her figure.

Going back into the living room to clean up her styling tools from earlier, she noticed that Solstice had left Corr's swaddling blanket. Lisbet tucked it into her satchel and finished tidying the room.

Normally, she braided her hair into coils around her head each morning. By Hosnian Prime standards it was scandalous to wear one's hair unbound in public, and practicality forced her to keep it up in Tatooine's dry wind. But now she shook it loose so that it fell in coppery waves down her back, sharing one secret smile with herself at what felt like a small, risque rebellion.

She was just gathering her things to leave when the door chime sounded. It must be Solstice, returning for Corr's blanket and to chivy her along.

"Coming!" she called as she headed to the entrance. Settling the strap of her satchel over her shoulder, she brushed the door's control panel to open it. "Oh – hello, Ben."

He had put his overtunic and cloak back on, and now his hair was tidily combed back and it looked like he had trimmed his beard. His eyes twinkled a little, and Lisbet wondered if he _really_ believed he was hiding a smile when his dimples betrayed him every time.

"You clean up nicely," she said, pointedly ignoring the flutterwings in the pit of her belly.

"Myles was kind enough to offer their refresher," Ben replied. "And no sooner had I returned to the community center than Solstice pushed me back out the door. It seems that Oona has decided to check on proceedings."

"Proof of how stressed poor Solstice is," Lisbet grinned. "Any other time and she would have led your right into the dragon's lair, just to watch the fun."

"Good to know," he said gravely. "This time, she promised to hurry her aunt along and asked me to return with you post-haste. May I escort you?" Dimpling openly this time, he offered her his arm like he had earlier that afternoon.

She took it, enchanted all over again. Could he be any more charming?

"You look lovely," he said as they began walking back to the community center.

Well, yes, he _could_.

"Thank you," she replied, catching the extra material of her skirt with her free hand before the breeze tangled it into her legs.

The first sun had mostly set, and the second was casting long shadows by the time they came into view of the community center, which now teemed with young people all atwitter in excitement. Solstice was outside the door with Corr still safely tucked against her chest, herding everyone inside as they arrived.

"Is it just me," Ben observed, "or do they make them younger and younger these days?"

Lisbet glanced at him with a mischievous smile. "Are you prepared to chaperone six dozen teenagers for the next four hours?"

Just then, Solstice caught sight of them and hurried over to intercept them before they entered. "Stars end if Auntie isn't still here," she said, breathless. "You'll have to help in the kitchen until she goes, Ben. She hates cooking, so it's the only safe place."

"That's really not necessary," he replied, looking somewhere between amused and resigned.

"Don't be ridiculous," Solstice waved his protest away. "If Auntie knows you're here, she'll corner you and you'll be useless to me for the rest of the night. I need all hands on deck at least until dinner goes out. Come along, you can go in through the side door. Come on!"

Glancing helplessly at Lisbet over his shoulder, Ben allowed Solstice to shepherd him around the other side of the building to the service entrance. Lisbet made a laughingly apologetic face in response before heading inside through the front doors.

The main hall of the community center was even more lovely now that the lights had been dimmed and faint strains of music filled the air as the musicians warmed up. It wasn't a formal band, just some of Solstice's friends that knew how to play. They sounded a little tentative as they felt out how to blend with each other, but Lisbet could hear their talent and felt sure they would find their feet.

"My niece tells me you draped the fabric in here," said Oona, appearing at her side.

"I did," Lisbet replied. "Thank you for lending it to us – it's made all the difference."

"You've used it well," Oona grunted, as if paying the compliment pained her. "I'm not too proud to admit that I had no idea it could be arranged so pleasantly. Next thing you know, the community leaders will be asking me to leave it."

"That would be a very generous donation," Lisbet said neutrally, although it wouldn't surprise her if the old woman did exactly that. Oona was a great many things, open handed not least among them.

"Humph," she sniffed, apparently offended by the suggestion. "All the same, take care that it's undamaged in all the ruckus tonight."

"You aren't staying?" Lisbet asked, all innocence.

"Stars, no. Surrounded by noisy teenagers? There's a reason I didn't have children. No, I'll be off home in a minute."

"I'm glad you stopped by," Lisbet said, honestly.

"Humph," Oona said again, but gently this time. "I'll see you in the shop tomorrow morning, girl."

"Good night." Lisbet risked one smile at her, although she knew Oona wouldn't return it. Sure enough, the old weaver tsked and moved away. No sooner had Oona gone than Myles approached, looking uncharacteristically harried.

"Thank goodness you're back," he said. "Solstice has been flitting around like a Toydarian on spice, and the musicians are asking me questions, and I think dinner is supposed to be going out soon, and I have no idea what to do–"

"Breathe," Lisbet said with a reassuring smile. "Solstice should be in the kitchen, so you head there and see about dinner. I'll go talk to the musicians. We are going to get through this, Myles."

He nodded resolutely and disappeared through the crowd of teenagers, heading for the kitchen. Lisbet made her own way toward the musicians to answer their questions, which turned out to be a simple matter about when the dancing was supposed to begin.

From then on, everything seemed to speed up. The last of the guests arrived and dinner was served shortly thereafter, and all was a busy hustle-bustle to keep dishes hot and pots scrubbed and everything running smoothly. Keida ran the kitchen and Solstice oversaw everything else, and between them Lisbet barely had a second to think let alone get a word in with Ben, who had been assigned washing-up duty. There were enough used dishes to keep him busy nonstop.

Still, the atmosphere was electric with merriment; Lisbet hadn't had so much fun since leaving the Core. Even Ben, when she caught glimpses of him between her many tasks, seemed relaxed and happy. There was something magical about working hard with others.

Once dinner was done and everything was cleaned up, Keida took Corr home and Solstice sent everyone else back to the main hall in time for the dancing. Apparently that was when the real chaperone work began, as the music got loud and blood started to run high.

"Try to dance with Ben at least once tonight, won't you?" Solstice whispered to Lisbet in passing, although it was hard to hear her over the first song that was already in full swing.

"I've hardly seen him," Lisbet replied, glancing in his direction. He was nearly across the room, watching the proceedings without getting involved. She recognized his stance – casual threat-assessment, like Gareth wore when he was working. Ben must have noticed her looking at him, because he offered her a wry smile.

"That hasn't stopped the pair of you from making eyes at each other all night," Solstice retorted, poking her in the ribs. " _Honestly_ , Lissy, do you think I'm blind?"

"We have _not_ ," Lisbet protested, but Solstice just rolled her eyes and disappeared into the crowd.

It didn't take long for the music to get too loud to easily hear any conversation. It seemed like community parties on Tatooine began with group dances instead of paired ones, but Lisbet didn't know most of them. Still, Solstice coaxed her into a few, following the steps the best she could as she twirled from one partner to the next, all of them blushing teenaged boys. Ben didn't join, and she somehow didn't make it over to him to try to talk when she wasn't on the dancefloor.

After a couple of hours, as the evening began to wind down, the constant loud noise and the heat of so many moving bodies in the hall had started to drain her. She glanced around the auditorium, assessing the scene and, if she would admit it to herself, looking for Ben. He was nowhere to be seen.

Everything else seemed fine, though, so Lisbet slipped out the front door for some fresh air. One of Tatooine's moons had risen to cast a silvery glow on the sand, and the wind had calmed to a cool, gentle breeze. Lisbet breathed deeply, enjoying the change from the stuffy indoors. She left the door open to help circulate air inside, but moved away from it toward the little bench on the side of the building so that she could rest her feet.

She had only sat down for a moment when she saw a shadow fall from the doorway, and a second later Ben came outside. He didn't seem to notice her at first, but then he turned toward the bench and hesitated.

"It seems we had the same idea," he said as he came closer.

"I just needed a break from so many people," Lisbet explained. She was about to invite him to join her when he inclined his head with an understanding smile.

"I will not interrupt your solitude, then," he said as he made to go.

"Please do," she said quickly. "I mean – stay. Surely they can spare us both from the party for a few minutes."

He didn't even hesitate to consider it, just settled down easily beside her on the bench. Their shoulders didn't quite touch, and Lisbet hovered in the balance of whether or not to close the distance.

"Thank you again for helping," she said, eventually deciding to be still.

Inside, the music shifted to an even more lively song, and there was a muffled cheer from the revelers at the change. Lisbet and Ben's eyes met in a glance of shared amusement. But then the look faded into quiet reverie, and Lisbet's heart suddenly lodged against her windpipe.

"Did you ever have a coming of age party?" she asked, clearing her throat and looking down at her hands to cool her racing pulse.

"No," he said. "To be honest, this is the first one I've attended at all."

"I suppose growing up always on the move would have that result," Lisbet replied. She thought about asking him more about his youth, but decided against it. As much as they had talked about her family, he always managed to steer the conversation away from his. She didn't want to spoil the evening with her own frustration at his non-answers, so she changed tack entirely. "Are you planning to go to the big race later this month? What's it called?"

"The Boonta Eve Classic," he supplied. "And I don't think so. Are you?"

"No," Lisbet half-shuddered. "I got my fill of Tatooine's big cities with Mos Eisley. Gareth is going, though. Apparently it's a big tradition with the workers on Kairon's farm; he gives them the time off as a holiday and most of them travel together. Gareth's hoping to convince Erys to join them. It seems like half the town is planning to go."

"Will it be safe here with so many away?"

 _As safe as you are alone in the desert_ , Lisbet almost said. But instead she replied, "Solstice says the Sand People follow the crowds, taking potshots at the speeders and ambushing solo travelers. It sounds like it's more dangerous to go than it is to stay. Have you ever seen a podrace?"

"Not voluntarily," Ben said as he cracked a smile. "My, ah, my brother liked to pilot more than just ships. When he was young I seemed to be fishing him out of all sorts of scrapes. Once, when he was twelve or so, he snuck down to the lower levels on Coruscant and entered a race with a swoop bike that he'd built in a dumpster with spare parts."

"What happened?" Lisbet asked, delighted at this unsolicited story.

"I found him before he ended up as a smear on the duracrete," he said dryly. "We had quite the row afterward. He always wanted to go further, faster, to find and then push the limits of his abilities. It made for some harrowing flights."

"Didn't you like flying?" she asked, although she thought she could already guess the answer.

"I believed in the work we were doing," Ben replied after a moment, his voice softening as if confessing something. "But I did not love to fly."

Just then, the music changed for the first time from the loud, energetic party tunes to a slow and gentle melody that drifted sweetly through the open doors into the night air. Ben turned to her with a smile.

"Lisbet," he said, holding out a hand, "will you dance with me?"

It was such an ingrained habit to take an offered hand that she slipped her fingers into his without really thinking about it. "Do pilots know how to dance?"

"I've traveled the galaxy, remember?" He stood, drawing her up with him. "It helps to be light on your feet."

The last time she had danced was at a grand gala back home on Hosnian Prime to celebrate the Clone War ending. She had laughed and twirled and been merry with her friends until the sun came up, believing that their sorrows had ended and a new world was beginning. Gareth had worked security that night, vigilant even in the rebirth of peace, but he had found her when his shift was over and they toasted to the sunrise.

Now Lisbet was as far from that as she could possibly be, standing in the moonlight of a desert Outer Rim planet, with a man she hardly knew and yet _did_. He was a warm and steady pillar as he put a hand against her waist and she to his shoulder. The way he looked at her made the breath catch in her throat, but she couldn't look away.

And then with the slightest pressure against her back, he led her into the dance.

For a moment the placement of his hand distracted her. In most dances between two humanoids, the leader put their hand between their partner's shoulder blades, since any lower implied a romance. Ben's was on the small of her back, his wrist warm against the narrowest part of her waist. She brushed the unasked question out of her thoughts; he probably just didn't understand the symbolism. Why would a pilot need to know the fine details of Coreworld ballroom etiquette?

She began to recognise the footwork he had chosen. It was an old, courtly dance – _very_ old, and deliberately choreographed with slow, gliding steps to accommodate the elaborate formal wear of high society functions. It was perfectly suited to the song coming from inside and suddenly Lisbet's eyes welled with tears.

"What is it?" Ben asked, feet slowing as he noticed.

"Don't stop," she said quickly, wiping under her lashes with a smile, then returned her hand to his shoulder. He easily fell back in time with the music, though his face was still concerned. "This is nice," she tried to explain. "This is _beautiful_." But how could she explain that despite everything, despite the loss and the grief and the surrender of dreams – dancing here under the stars with him _was_ beautiful, and how grateful she was that things like this still happened?

Maybe her glistening eyes told him what she couldn't put into words, because somehow he understood. Even though his expression was a little sad, he dimpled faintly under his beard and twirled her once, twice, then drew her back into his arms.

Lisbet had forgotten some of the steps, but he led her through them so effortlessly that she never faltered. The sand under their feet made for an unusual dancehall, but what a ceiling above them – Tatooine was so dry and dark that the sky brimmed with millions upon millions of stars. And even in the silvery light, Ben was golden and luminous, and warm beneath her palms.

At last, but altogether too soon, the song faded away and Ben twirled her one last time. They ended in open position, one of her hands still in his.

Ben's eyes were on her in a way that she'd never been looked at before, a way that made her soul swell and her cheeks flush. Something had shifted between them in the space of a dance, although she didn't know what or how.

Lisbet's heart should have been racing. Her mind should be in tumult, her breath catching, but instead she felt… safe. Ben took a step forward to close the distance between them, and when his gaze dropped to her lips, she steadied herself with a hand on the place where his neck curved into his shoulder, her fingertips twining into the hair at his nape that had begun to grow too long again.

She knew, with calm clarity, that he wanted to kiss her. Everything else fell away in that moment: the sand underfoot, the glimmering constellations above, even the beautiful music from inside. There was only him and the way his eyes returned to hers, filled with unspeakable longing.

And then he leaned down toward her, close enough for their breath to mingle, and–

"Miss Irimore?" came a tentative call from the doorway.

Lisbet sucked in a small, involuntary gasp at the interruption, half startled and half frustrated. She was facing away from the the door, but she recognized the voice as Emila, one of Tavrie's friends. Solstice must have sent her to find them. Lisbet closed her eyes for a moment, mostly to school her features to serenity but also because she didn't know what she would find on Ben's face.

"Miss Irimore…?" Emila called again, clearly unwilling to leave the safety of the doorway and the light within.

"Coming," Lisbet replied over her shoulder. She turned back to Ben, whose eyes were now tinged faintly with humor, and something else that she couldn't place.

"It seems our respite has ended," he said, "and we are needed again."

"Yes," she agreed, and a second later realized that she should withdraw her hand from the nape of his neck. She didn't want to – she wanted to go back to a moment ago, when her heart was soaring up to meet his lips.

Or had she imagined it? Had the magic of a dance swept her away, and now she was overstepping on a daydream?

She took a step back, considering him. He was always difficult to read anyway, but now he was shuttering himself off into the calm, reserved gentleman that she had first met almost four months ago. Not that he was being rude – he still radiated a frank politeness, and anyone else probably wouldn't have noticed the difference. But to Lisbet, who had learned him better, the change was both striking and a little bewildering.

"Shall we?" Ben said, gesturing back to the open doorway.

"Yes," she said again.

He did not offer her his arm this time, and they returned to the noise of the auditorium without exchanging another word. Emila was just inside the door and seemed surprised to see Ben.

"Solstice said it's nearly time to clean up, and she wants your help," she said to Lisbet, loudly to be heard over the music, and studiously ignoring Ben all the while. He smiled politely and inclined his head to excuse himself, and disappeared into the crowd before Lisbet could find any words.

"Thank you, Emila," she managed to say, although it took an enormous effort of will to tear her eyes from Ben's retreating back and turn them to the girl. She felt like all her attention had run off after him, and it was hard to focus on anything else. "Where–" She practically shook herself, crushing down her traitorous emotions lest she actually follow him in person. "Where is Solstice?"

Emila pointed toward a very obvious part of the room, where Lisbet _should_ have seen Solstice elbows-deep in clearing away the heavy dessert trays. Lisbet thanked the girl, who was clearly eager to return to the party before it entirely finished, and headed in Solstice's direction.

"Lissy! Where in the galaxy have you been?" her friend said by way of greeting.

"I stepped outside for some fresh air," Lisbet replied as she tried to reorganize her thoughts to the task at hand.

"And with Ben nowhere to be found either," Solstice clucked, sounding for all the world like her aunt, before something across the room caught her eye. "Oh, there he is. Oh–" Lisbet could practically see the realization sweep across her face. "Oh, Lissy, were you–?"

"You _did_ say I should dance with him," she said, keeping her tone light.

"You wicked thing!" Solstice grinned, then grimaced. "And I spoiled it by sending Emila to find you. Go dance with him again! Tell him I just had a question. I can manage here."

"No, I'll help you," Lisbet said quickly and hefted one of the empty trays into her arms. "The party is winding down and it will be time for him to help Myles tear down the tables soon anyway. Let's get this cleaned up."

Solstice frowned her disapproval, but couldn't argue with Lisbet's logic. Lisbet was a little relieved that the matter dropped, because how could she explain what she was thinking when she didn't really know herself?

Cleaning up the dessert trays and putting away all the decor from the tables kept them busy for the next half hour at least, and by the time Lisbet reemerged into the auditorium, more than half of the revelers had gone and the rest were helping put away the tables and chairs. She glanced around at the dwindling crowd.

"Myles," Lisbet said, catching his sleeve as he went past, "have you seen Ben?"

"He left," Myles replied. "I told him to go about fifteen minutes ago. There are plenty of kids here to do the rest of the heavy lifting."

"Oh, he left," Lisbet echoed. Handmaidens were taught not to betray emotions in public, so it was second nature to nod as if she wasn't bothered.

"Did you need him for something? He mentioned staying in one of the backrooms at the cantina," Myles continued, his honest face quizzically concerned. "I'm sure you could catch him if you hurry."

"No, that's alright," she shook her head and summoned a smile.

"You should go home, too," he said. "You look tired. Sols and I can finish up here and send the rest of the rabble home."

Lisbet opened her mouth to say she didn't mind staying, but changed her mind. "Thank you," she said instead. "I _am_ tired. Goodnight."

The breeze had gone from cool to chilly when she stepped back outside and she wished she had a wrap. There were a few others walking home too, but even though she could hear their soft conversations she didn't talk to any of them.

She reflexively looked for Rooh when she passed the cantina. It was dark in the run-in shelter in the eopie pen, but she could just see the awkward silhouette of Ben's pet chewing her cud. Lisbet looked away. It shouldn't upset her that Ben hadn't said goodnight before he left – it _didn't_ upset her, she told herself firmly. It didn't upset her at all.

But once she keyed in the entry code to her front door and finally got to the safety of her own private space, she sat down on her bed and brushed away one rogue tear.

* * *

 **indak,** _(v., Tagalog)_ , to dance in time to the music.


	10. áit shábháilte

"Surely there's some way to contact him," Solstice said, one arm linked through Lisbet's while the other hand absently traced curlicues on Corr's golden head. "Doesn't he have a comm frequency?"

"If he does, I don't know it," Lisbet replied patiently. "Besides, the only comm we have is the one your father gave to Gareth for work."

She hadn't told Solstice much other than that she and Ben had danced outside the party over a week ago, but Solstice had put enough pieces together to make herself believe that there was something left unsaid between them. Lisbet half-wished she hadn't told her at all, if only because now Solstice was in full problem-solving mode – which was pretty useless, because Ben only came into town when he wanted to and was untraceable otherwise.

_And that's just it,_ she told herself. _If he wants to speak with me, he will._

A part of her had hoped he would do just that the morning after the dance before he returned to his home in the Waste. She had lingered a little longer than necessary at home, knowing it would be easier for him to find her there instead of the weaving shop. But when she finally walked to work and passed the cantina, Rooh was nowhere to be seen. He had already left.

"But surely it wouldn't be hard to find him," Solstice was musing. The two of them were on their way to Lisbet's house after she finished work to have a cup of caff before everyone else got home for the evening.

"Listen to yourself," Lisbet had to laugh. "I'm not going to wander out into the Waste, hoping to find Ben and ask him who-knows-what, just because I haven't seen him in nine days."

"It was only a thought," Solstice sighed. "I just don't understand why he didn't say goodbye to you before he left."

"You're overthinking this," Lisbet said, pausing to key in the entry code to her front door. "He was probably just tired from all the work we gave him, and ready to get away from the horde of teenagers."

"Oh, sweet Lissy," Solstice crooned as she patted Lisbet's arm. "If one thing is clear to me, it's that he doesn't deserve you. You are sweet to defend him." And with that, she waltzed inside.

"That's not–" Lisbet started to say, following, before deciding this was a fight she couldn't win. Solstice had decided to make a pair of her and Ben, and nothing would convince her otherwise. She hung her dust-scarf on the peg in the entryway and headed toward the kitchen, only to pull up short in the door.

"Why, hello Erys," Solstice was just saying to the slender blonde who was getting up from her seat across from Gareth at the kitchen table. "What a pleasant surprise to see you in town!"

Gareth also stood, his dark eyes expressive as he looked at Lisbet over Erys' shoulder. A whole silent conversation passed between the siblings in the space of a second – a half apology from him, a question from her, a hopeful shrug of his shoulders that maybe spoke better than his eyes. Lisbet hadn't met Erys before, and the sudden introduction made her immediately think of when Gareth had first met Ben in very similar circumstances.

Erys had been cooing over little Corr, but as Gareth stepped around the table to join her, she looked up at Lisbet. "Hello," she said. "I'm sorry to surprise you like this."

"Don't apologize," Lisbet replied, extending her hand in greeting. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Gareth has only said lovely things about you."

Just then, Corr very obligingly hiccupped himself awake, and promptly began to cry. Solstice immediately began the gently bouncing rhythm innate to all mothers, making an apologetic face over Corr's blond head.

"He wakes up hard sometimes," she said. "I'd better get him home. I'll catch up with you later, Lissy – and it was good to see you, Erys!" She shot one look at Lisbet promising that their discussion about Ben's whereabouts wasn't over, and then went out the door amid a chorus of goodbyes.

There was a beat of awkward silence after she left. Gareth had that lost puppy look about him: confused, but eager to please. And Erys seemed a little out of her depth, which Lisbet hoped wasn't because of her. She hurried to say something. "Do you have time to stay for supper?"

"An early one, if that's alright," Erys replied. "I have to get back to the farm before sunset, but when Gareth showed up this afternoon and suggested that I come into town to meet you, I couldn't refuse."

"We finished work early and it was too perfect an opportunity to pass up, else I would have told you beforehand," Gareth explained.

Lisbet had already moved to start preparing their dinner, since dusk was only about two hours away, and he hurried to help her. There wasn't enough room in the kitchen area for three, so Erys lingered out of the way by the table.

"Gareth tells me you work with Oona Waver," she said. "That must be… interesting?"

"She's not so bad," Lisbet laughed as she leaned around Gareth to reach a dish. "For some reason she likes people to believe that she's a grumpy old crone, but she can't fool me anymore."

"Stars only know why she loves that reputation," Erys said, shaking her head with a small smile. "The full year after my father died, we received a shipment of groceries every month on the dot. For ages we didn't know who sent them, until once the grocer slipped up with the receipt that had been signed by Oona. That would have been a lean year without her generosity."

"I think she just doesn't want anyone to know about her finances," Lisbet said. "So she can choose where to be generous, instead of being asked or worse."

"There _are_ people in town who disapprove of her business with the Hutts," Erys replied, "even though half of Tatooine has borrowed from them or been indebted in some way."

Lisbet shared a glance with Gareth, one brow arched in a silent question. Had he told her that the two of them were beholden to Jabba until their long-lost cousin's debts were repaid, or that once a month his debt collector paid them a visit to collect the interest? He answered with a slight nod.

"Well, dinner is served," Lisbet announced, bringing their simple fare over to the table.

"It smells wonderful," Erys said – graciously, since it was just a bantha and tatoe stew with plain haroun bread.

They passed a pleasant dinner in conversation. Erys answered everything that was of asked her but didn't ask very many questions in return, and by the time the meal ended Lisbet had started running out of small talk. She was secretly a little relieved that it was time for Erys to head home. Lisbet wished her safe travels before Gareth walked her out to the shed in the back, where she had parked her own speeder next to theirs.

Once the door had closed behind them, Lisbet scraped the leavings from dinner into the composter before putting the dishes in the pulse cleaner. Their little compost bin had grown pretty respectably since starting it nearly six months ago, and Lisbet felt almost ready to begin growing something from its contents.

More than several minutes went past before Gareth reentered. Lisbet was mostly done cleaning up, but he joined her to finish anyway.

"You were very quiet during supper." She poked him gently in the ribs as she handed him something that went on a higher shelf than she could reach.

"Sorry, Lis," he said, looking a bit self-conscious. "I was just so nervous that the two of you get along."

She knew he was hinting at the real question that he wanted to ask: what _did_ she think of Erys? "She's nice," Lisbet said, so that he wasn't kept in suspense. "I see why you like her. But she is very different from others that have caught your fancy."

"I _do_ like her," Gareth said with a bit of a silly grin on his face.

"Really? I had no idea." Lisbet widened her eyes to feign surprise, then broke character to laugh at him. "She really is nice. I give you my permission to like her as much as you choose." Truthfully, she could tell that without the connection through Gareth, Erys wasn't someone Lisbet would necessarily try to be friends with. But stars, the way he was about her – how could she _not_ approve?

"I'm glad you like her, Lis," he said, radiating an air of relieved satisfaction. "How are _you_?"

For a moment she considered mentioning her conflicted feelings about Ben, but almost immediately decided against it. It seemed selfish to bring doubts and confusion to Gareth when he was so happy. And besides, he still didn't particularly like Ben, although he'd grudgingly accepted that Lisbet wasn't going to shun him.

"I'm alright," she replied instead. "But you disturbed my planned girltalk with Solstice. You're just going to have to let me pick the holodrama this evening to make up for it."

Gareth's mouth screwed up in melodramatic distaste. "Anything but that Life Day special again."

" _No_ ," Lisbet shuddered as she ushered him into the living room. "Let us never even speak of that again. I was thinking more like that drama we started last week…"

In the end they settled on an old favourite that they both loved. As she curled at the end of the sofa, Lisbet stole a glance at her brother beside her. His attention was turned toward the holodrama, his eyes glimmering in its reflection. She smiled. Whatever happened outside their little house, she would always have this.

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

"You're sure you'll be alright, Lis?" Gareth asked. It was mid-afternoon and they were outside Oona's workshop a little apart from the rest of Kairon's farmhands and Erys. It was better to travel en masse through the desert, and since Oona was Kairon's sister, she warranted a full complement of guardians. Everyone but Lisbet was leaving for Mos Espa and the pod race soon, and it would be the first time that the siblings had been more than twenty klicks apart since leaving Coruscant.

"I'll be fine," she replied, nudging his arm with her shoulder. "Solstice and Myles are staying, and there's plenty to keep me busy here at the shop."

"You work too much," her brother said. "I wish you would come with us."

Lisbet scoffed. "And spend two days the odd man out? You can't fool me, Gare. You'll only have eyes for Erys and I would be left to my own devices." Gareth's flustered expression made her laugh, so she pushed him in Erys' direction, saying, "Have fun. I'll see you in a few days."

She liked seeing them together – she _did._ But a small, traitorous part of her whispered that he was leaving her behind, not just today but in his heart, too. There was something different about Erys, something that made him light up and also steady, like his soul had finally fallen into place. Lisbet knew that her time as his closest friend was drawing to a close.

"What are you moping about, girl?" Oona's gruff voice interrupted her thoughts. The old woman dumped a bin of folded fabric samples into Lisbet's arms, clearly intending to somehow do business on the trip as well as enjoy the race. "I expect you to stay busy while I'm gone. We can't afford to lose any time before the next shipment."

"I was just telling Gareth how productive I intend to be," Lisbet smiled sunnily over her shoulder as she loaded the bin into Oona's speeder. "And Solstice said she will come help me weave tomorrow, since there's no point in opening the fabric stall with so many away."

"Humph," Oona said noncommittally. "Perhaps between the two of you, you'll manage to survive."

Everyone had been waiting on Oona, so now that her last bit of cargo was stowed, the group was ready to leave. Gareth and Erys were already in their speeder, and Lisbet raised a hand in farewell to them as Oona clamoured into her own vehicle.

The old woman didn't waste a goodbye on anyone, just accelerated into the desert at the head of the pack. The rest of the speeders followed, with Gareth leaving last so that he could shout, "We'll see you in a couple days!" over the general din of the engines before joining the rest of the group.

And with that they were gone, turning swiftly into fuzzy specks in the distance as the grav-repulsors kicked up dust in their wake. Lisbet shaded her eyes from the suns for a moment until they completely disappeared. Then, shaking off the melancholy that always came when she watched loved ones leave, she went inside and got back to work.

Hours later, Lisbet pushed away the loom handle and rubbed her tired eyes. Weaving always gave her a backache, but lately the finer weaves made her head hurt, too.

_Or maybe I'm just hungry,_ she thought as her stomach rumbled. She had already decided to eat dinner at the cantina, if only to have some company instead of returning to an empty house after spending the day in an empty workshop.

It was full dusk when she stepped outside and locked the door behind her, the second sun a thin, brilliant crescent on the horizon. The town itself was noticeably quieter than normal, with half or more of the locals gone to Mos Espa. Lisbet walked quickly to the cantina.

That was quieter than normal, too, but there were still a few people scattered at tables or the bar. Lisbet placed her order and found a corner seat with a view of the holonet, figuring now was as good a time as any to catch up on the galaxy's news. Anchorhead didn't get much in the way of outside information, and most of it was word-of-mouth. No doubt tomorrow the cantina would be filled with people watching the livecast of the podrace, but for now it was tuned to one of the few channels that made it this far into the Outer Rim.

She ate in silence, watching the news scroll past. Some of it was gossip about holostars, which held no fascination to Lisbet anymore.

One lengthy segment sang the praises of Emperor Palpatine's new enforcer. Lisbet had never seen him before, and the segment didn't say where he was from. He was an imposing, tall man dressed in all black with a mask, called Vader. Lisbet huffed down at her plate. Did they truly think that anyone believed such an ominous figure would bring peace to the galaxy? Still, a part of her was glad to be far away from Coruscant and whatever atrocities cloaked as kindnesses were happening there.

There was a small segment about the preparations for one-year anniversary since the end of the Clone War next month and then the rest of the news was updates about supposed relief efforts across parts of the Mid Rim, although all Lisbet saw was more and more stormtrooper occupation. _At least they're bringing food and med supplies,_ she thought, taking the last bite of her meal.

She took her empty dish and cutlery back up to the bar to save them the trip of clearing it away. The barkeep nodded his thanks at the gesture as he wiped down the back bar.

"Have you–" The question half-popped out of Lisbet's mouth before she really meant to ask it, and she flushed a little. "Have you, um, have you seen Ben lately? He stables his eopie here sometimes."

"Old Ben Kenobi?" the barkeep clarified, nonplussed.

Lisbet wouldn't have used that descriptor, but maybe Ben's quiet manner _did_ brand him as an old soul. She nodded.

"Not since that Waver girl's star-seventeen three weeks ago," the barkeep grunted. "Paid ahead, left before suns-up. Bit of an odd one, that. Why, he owe you something?"

"No," Lisbet replied hastily. "I just wondered."

"He's probably at the race, like the rest of the people on this rock."

"Probably so," Lisbet agreed, if only to conclude the conversation. But Ben had said he wasn't going – and he knew that she wasn't, either. She took her disappointment in a stranglehold and shoved it deep into the recesses of her mind as she smiled half-heartedly at the barkeep. "Well, goodnight."

She had left the illuminators on in her kitchen that morning so that she wouldn't have to return to dark _and_ empty house, which she was grateful for when she stepped through her front door from the pitch black outside. She had also stocked up on three new holobooks, borrowed from Keida Waver. Lisbet still wasn't quite used to being alone after a lifetime spent almost entirely in company, but she had learned how to handle it, at least.

A few minutes later, she had a steaming mug of tea in her hand and the first holobook in her lap as she curled comfortably on the oversized couch in the main room. Soon she was so engrossed in the story that she almost missed a faint knock on the front door.

She set aside the holobook, listening. But no, she hadn't imagined it – there was another knock. Both of the neighbors on either side had gone to Mos Espa for the race, but it could be Solstice. She sometimes appeared for a chat after Corr went to sleep for the night, particularly if she knew Gareth was away. It would be quite late for that, though; Lisbet glanced at the chrono as she headed toward the door and saw that it was just past midnight.

Were Sand People clever enough to lure people from their homes in this way? Lisbet paused at the entryway, hand hovering over the control pad. The viewscreen was broken just like the chime, so she had no way of knowing who was outside.

It would be impossible for Raiders to pass through town undetected, she decided. It had to be Solstice. But when she pressed the controls and opened the door, it was neither on the other side.

"Ben!" Lisbet gasped.

He looked awful – covered in dust, bruise purpling along one side of his jaw under his beard, and seeming to favour one arm. He leaned against the doorframe as if exhausted, but still offered her a wry smile.

"I apologize for disturbing you so late," he said, his voice raspy.

Lisbet felt like she was rooted to the spot, too surprised to move. "What– happened?" she managed to say.

"Well," he said as he pushed off the doorframe with a wince, wavering on his feet, "I seem to have been stabbed."

And then he collapsed.

* * *

**áit shábháilte,** _(n., Irish)_ , a place of safety.


	11. toska

Lisbet didn't so much catch him as clumsily guide him to the ground. He caught himself on his knees, leaning hard on her, and she realized that her fingers were sticky and wet with blood.

" _Ben_ ," she heard herself half-shudder, half-sob.

"I'm so sorry to trouble you," he rasped out, well-mannered even as he struggled to maintain consciousness. He braced against the doorframe with one hand and leveraged himself back to his feet with a grimace. Lisbet followed up him up, hands fluttering uselessly against his torso since she was afraid to hurt him more by applying pressure.

"Come inside," she said as she shoved down the awful shock and her senses flooded back in.

"Thank you," he said, taking a single step before lurching into her again.

This time she was prepared, and she tucked one shoulder under what she hoped was his uninjured arm to support his weight. He slumped against her, fingertips brushing the opposite wall in a weak effort to keep his balance. She steadied him with a palm against his chest, close enough to his heart to feel his pulse racing. Her breath caught in her throat again.

He was heavy, but between them they stumbled into the kitchen and she helped him sit – drop – into one of the chairs at the table. She scrambled for the small medkit in the cabinet as he began to shrug out of his cloak, wincing.

"What happened?" she asked. The medkit was almost out of reach, but she stretched so sharply that her joints cracked. Turning back around, she saw that Ben had stopped halfway in taking off the cloak and his skin had gone ashen. Lisbet dropped the medkit on the table and reached to help him, only to recoil in shock.

He hadn't just been stabbed – it was still buried in his back. It wasn't even a vibroblade, but an impossibly antiquated shiv made of scrap-metal with a crude handle that stuck out between his shoulderblades a couple inches to the right of his spine. Lisbet clamped both hands over her mouth to hold in the awful noise she wanted to make. She met Ben's eyes, and he looked so _tired_. Making it here after whatever happened to him had pushed him to the far limits of his strength.

There was no doctor in Anchorhead, and if anyone had experience with stab wounds, Lisbet didn't know who. She had a little medical training – though mostly in first aid and much less critical injuries. It would have to be enough.

"That needs to come out," she said, blinking back tears.

"Yes," he agreed, apology and exhaustion written across his face.

She went back to the medkit and opened it with shaking hands. The supplies inside seemed woefully inadequate, but she pulled them out anyway.

Once during training, Gareth had taken a plasma bolt square to his chest. It was a freak accident and not on full power, but it had stopped his heart for six seconds and broken four of his ribs. Lisbet had just happened to be in the training hall when it happened, so they had let her accompany him as he was transported to the emergency medcenter. She still remembered how calm the nurses were, all soothing voices and steady hands. Reaching for that calm now, she took a slow, steadying breath.

There was a very little bacta, three tablets of blood coagulant, and several sizes of bandages. Surveying what she had, Lisbet tried to grasp what she needed to do. Every fibre of her being screamed in protest, terrified of hurting Ben more even though it was necessary, and for an agonizing moment, she hesitated.

"I'm so sorry, Lisbet," Ben quietly said again, and something in the way he spoke her name grounded her. Absurdly, she realized that he was one of the only people who called her _Lisbet_ – not _Lis_ , or _Lissy_ , or even _girl_ like Oona favoured. The realization made her heart lurch, although she wasn't sure why.

"Stop apologizing," she said as she turned around and spread the meagre med supplies within easy reach on the table. Somehow she managed to summon the ghost of a smile, trying to look reassuring. "Luckily for you, I'm practically an expert in stabbings. Why, I stabbed three people last week."

It was a terrible joke and Lisbet wasn't even sure why she made it, but Ben huffed out some semblance of a chuckle as she moved around behind him. She took a moment to examine what angle the shiv had gone into his back so that she could remove it as cleanly as possible. It essentially pinned Ben's clothing to him, and the dark hood of his cloak made it hard to tell how much blood he had lost.

She laid a hand on his uninjured shoulder to brace them both while her other hand hovered over the shiv, uncertain. She didn't want to touch the handle until absolutely necessary, because simply closing her fingers around it would surely cause him enormous pain. "Do you want me to count down, or just... go for it?"

"Don't count," he said, shifting minutely to lean a little more on the table.

Lisbet still counted down in her head, if only for her own benefit. _One, two, three,_ and then she grasped the handle of the shiv and pulled back in one swift motion.

It came out with a wet, sucking sound. Ben's fingers curled so tightly around the edge of the table that his knuckles cracked as he released a low breath that he had been holding in something between a gasp and a growl. Seeing the bloody, dripping blade in her hand, Lisbet swayed on her feet for a split second before realizing that the worst was far from over.

With its plug removed, the wound now bled freely and a dark stain was already seeping down Ben's back. Lisbet hadn't expected that – the weapon's antiquity was her undoing, since a modern blaster bolt self-cauterized on impact, and a vibroblade wouldn't have stayed embedded at all. Now she stared in shock at the gush of blood, before registering that Ben had slumped forward, supporting himself weakly with his forearms on the table.

"We have to–" She dropped the shiv unceremoniously onto the floor, her hand speckled with crimson. "Sit up. We have to stop the bleeding. Here, um, just–"

His eyes clouded a little with confusion as she rushed around to face him and hastily pushed his cloak off his shoulders. Now that its obscuring layers fell away, Lisbet could see another scarlet stain on his right side just under his ribs, but she gritted her teeth against the undertow of panic that kept trying to pull her under. For now, she just needed to actually see the extent of his injuries.

She had to coax the sleeves of his cloak over his hands, and she noticed his lids drifting closed. "Hey," she said, her tone sharp with fear. His focus snapped back to her and he stirred, as if he also realized that he was drifting.

"That wasn't particularly pleasant," he said in a sleepy voice.

Lisbet had pushed away all of the dark brown cloak and turned her attention to his tunic, which had so many layers that she hardly knew where to begin. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that the bleeding hadn't slowed down, and Ben's eyes were already getting hazy again.

"Talk to me," she said in a desperate bid to keep him awake. "Tell me what happened." She finally figured out that the belt and tabards would have to come off first, and then at least the outer tunic had just a simple front closure. She peeled off the cream layer immediately, shucking the wide sleeves down one arm and then the other in quick succession.

"Sand People," Ben said, allowing her to undress him without much notice or even interest. "I must have encroached on their territory."

Why did he wear so many layers? Lisbet fumbled with the clasps of his brown tunic, loosening them enough to get it over his head. "This will hurt," she warned as she coaxed the hem up his torso, trying not to notice the cords of muscle under her fingertips. And it _must_ have hurt to lift his arms, but Ben only winced again as she pulled the shirt over his shoulders and tossed it aside.

He was a mess. His ribs were a mottled patchwork of bruises, including one that must have broken bone underneath it. The wound on his side looked like it had come from the same weapon as the one on his back, but it wasn't bleeding much anymore.

"And why were you in Sand People territory?" she asked as she snatched up one of the coagulants and tore through the packaging. The wound between his shoulder blades was barely bigger than a fingerprint, but it pulsed a stream of blood that ran in sticky rivulets down his bare skin now that his shirt was off. It was so _red_.

As soon as she pressed the coagulant over it with fingers that seemed unbearably clumsy, the flow slowed down. Lisbet had no idea if that would be enough to staunch anything deeper where the shiv had pierced at least three inches, but it was the best she could do. She grabbed another packet of coagulant and moved to his side.

"Keep talking," she said, noticing that he hadn't answered her question as she knelt to reach better.

"I was in Mos Eisley," Ben said, the words coming slowly but with steady precision, like a soldier reporting to his superior officer.

Lisbet nudged his arm up to get it out of her way. _Mos Eisley! That's eighty klicks away_ , she thought, but didn't interrupt him. He barely flinched when she pressed the coagulant over his second wound. For a second she thought she would need to prompt him again, but he continued after a moment.

"I knew that many people had left for Mos Espa for the race tomorrow, so it seemed like a good time to visit Mos Eisley," he said. She reached through his arms to get a bacta patch off the table, the top of her head brushing under his elbow as she withdrew. He didn't seem to notice the proximity. "I went to a cantina for lunch, and – I received some bad news."

Something in his tone made Lisbet pause and look up at him. He'd covered part of his face with one hand, and his eyes were closed. She shifted a little to face him more and carefully took his other hand in her own.

"What news?" she asked softly.

He looked first at their interlaced fingers, though he didn't move to either accept the contact or pull away. He opened his mouth once and then closed it, and when he finally looked at her, she saw that his eyes were red with grief.

"Bad news," he said at last, looking away.

Lisbet recognized the evasion, and she dropped his hand to resume opening the first bacta patch. "Is that why you went into the desert?" she said. The patch was far too big for the wound itself, but she didn't bother trimming it down. At least it might help with some of the bruising. She suspected injuries like this would have merited full immersion in a bacta tank in days gone by, but the patches alone were a precious commodity on Tatooine. Anything was better than nothing.

"Yes," he answered her question. "I wanted to clear my head. But I strayed into parts of the Waste that I haven't been to, and I surprised a band of Tuskens. I think – I think I interrupted a sacred gathering of sorts."

"So they punished you," Lisbet guessed, moving back around to the wound between his shoulder blades. It had stopped seeping crimson, though his back was a bright smear of drying blood.

"Yes," he said. He had covered his face again, and part of Lisbet ached to reach out to comfort him in some way. She wondered if he would want it, though, and the best she could do was press the bacta patch as gently as possible over his wound.

"There," she said, running a thumb along the edge of the patch to make sure it bonded to his skin. "You'll live."

"Thank you," he said. He made one ill-fated attempt to stand, which only saw him halfway upright before he crumpled back into the seat, with Lisbet bolting to help him.

"You really shouldn't get up," she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"I couldn't presume on your hospitality," Ben rasped out. Evidently trying to stand unaided had been more painful than he anticipated. "You have already been too kind."

"And you're not going to undo all my kindness by returning to the Sand People in a ridiculous charade of civility," Lisbet snapped. She didn't know why she was so irritated by his intention to leave – only that the thought of him going back out into the pitch blackness gripped her spine with ice. She went to the kitchen cabinets, partly to give herself a moment to regain her composure, and partly to wet a cloth. Of course water was precious on Tatooine, but she didn't think he could stand up long enough for a sonic shower.

"You don't have to–" Ben weakly protested as soon as he realized what she was doing.

"You're covered in blood," Lisbet retorted, then softened when she saw his distress. "Ben, it's alright to let someone help you every now and then."

He looked down, what little fight he had left draining out of him. Lisbet didn't know whether to take that as a victory on her part, or a loss on his. Had he really expected to drop in, get patched up, and then waltz back out just like that? Why did he have to be so _stubborn?_

Still, she considered it a silent acceptance. She worked quickly to scrub away the blood and dirt from his torso and arms, avoiding the bacta patches and the worst of his bruises. He tolerated her ministrations without complaint, but his eyes were far away and getting heavier by the second. Lisbet could see now that the physical toll was only a part of what had happened, and whatever bad news he received had cost him something precious.

Dropping the stained cloth into the same pile as his tunics, she considered what to do next. A fair amount of blood had seeped down the right leg of his trouser, but it was mostly dry and she immediately dismissed the thought of dealing with it tonight. It was nearly one in the morning and Ben was practically asleep where he sat.

"Come on," she said. He focused blearily up at her, brows furrowing in a way that made her want to smooth them out and – and _kiss him_. She hastily shoved the thought away.

"I thought you said that I shouldn't stand up," he was mumbling even as she could see him mentally preparing to make the attempt again.

"Are you always such a meek and cooperative patient?" she asked with innocent eyes, calculating the distance to the couch in the living area.

Ben grimaced as he dragged himself upright, wavering a bit before finding his balance. He turned to her and said with exaggerated dignity, though dulled a little by his obvious sleepiness, "I always endeavour to be a model patient when I have the misfortune of being one."

"In that case," Lisbet smiled, "this Chief of Medicine recommends that her _model patient_ retire for bed rest until further check-ups are necessary. Come on." She didn't give him the chance to protest, just slipped under his left arm so that he could lean on her.

And he needed the support – each step cost him increasing effort, and by the time they made it to the couch, he crumpled down onto it so fast that Lisbet had to duck under his elbow to avoid being dragged down with him. Tendrils of worry crawled up her back again. He had lost a _lot_ of blood.

"I'll just, um, find a blanket," she blurted out as she realized that she had been staring at him. Tatooine could get cold at night, so they kept a stack of roughspun blankets in a corner cabinet. She rustled through them, searching for the softest one.

"Thank you, Lisbet," Ben said, his words coming slow and drowsy. "I didn't… have anywhere else to go."

She turned back to him, heart aching, but he was already asleep. He had half-curled onto his uninjured side, booted feet still considerately off the couch. The dark circles under his lids were more pronounced now that his eyes weren't open to distract her, and he breathed shallowly to protect his bruised ribs.

Lisbet took a blanket from the pile. It was one that she had made in her first few days at the weaving shop while she learned how to work the looms, and Oona let her keep it. Careful not to jostle him, Lisbet moved Ben's feet to the couch so that he would be more comfortable. He flinched awake at the contact, bleary and confused, and made it halfway up onto one elbow before she put a placating hand on his shoulder.

"Get some rest, soldier," she whispered in what she hoped was a stern but soothing tone. "You're safe here."

And just like that, Ben drifted back off as Lisbet spread the blanket over him. A thick fall of hair had tumbled across his forehead. Lisbet knelt next to him and reached out a tentative hand, but hesitated. _I should check his temperature_ , she rationalized, and swept his hair back so that she could lightly press her knuckles against his skin.

 _No fever_ , she decided as she combed through his hair with her fingertips a few more times – to make sure it stayed out of his face, of course. He didn't stir at the touch. In fact, he seemed dead to the world, already in a deep sleep-state.

Lisbet reluctantly got up up and went back into the kitchen. The full weight of the evening hadn't hit her yet, and she knew it would be a long time before she would be able to sleep. She neatly returned what was left of the medical supplies to the medkit and filled the sink with a few inches of cold water and cleaning powder. Ben's bloodied tunics and the rag went into that to soak, and then she scrubbed down nearly every exposed surface in the kitchen with a heavy-duty cleaner.

The work was calming. When she finished, she ran a hand over her eyes and breathed in and out once, deeply. _He is going to be alright_ , she told herself. _For now, it's time to get some rest, too._

All the illuminators were still on full brightness in the living area when she rounded the corner, and Ben was still asleep. Lisbet paused to look at him for a moment, just to reassure herself that he was breathing, before turning the illuminators down to one-tenth power. Dark enough to not disturb him, but still a little light in case he woke up.

She made it all the way into her bedroom, and sat on her bed, and took the pins from her hair to let it fall down her back. She even went through the motions of turning down her bedcovers, until the thought of him waking up alone and disoriented – or not waking up at all – made her strip the covers off completely and carry them in a bundle back into the living area.

There was an overstuffed armchair across the small room from the couch. She made a nest of blankets and then curled into it, her head propped against one armrest. _I'll watch over you_ , she told Ben's sleeping form. Or maybe she just thought it, right before she drifted off to sleep, too.

* * *

 **toska,** _(n., Russian)_ , a state of great anguish; melancholy or sorrow beyond bearing.


	12. agonistes

Lisbet woke all in a lurch, filled with the distinctive feeling that she had overslept. The first thing that fully registered was how much her back and neck hurt from the odd angle she'd been in – and then she saw the man-shaped pile of blankets on her couch across the room.

She bolted to her feet, shedding her own blankets carelessly to the floor as she closed the distance in two quick steps. Ben hadn't moved at all from where he'd fallen asleep the night before, but he was breathing much more deeply now. Tentatively, she pressed the knuckles of two fingers against his forehead; he didn't stir in the slightest, and he wasn't too warm. Some of the tension drained from Lisbet's shoulders. Surely if there was an infection, he would be feverish.

Just then there was a rapping on the door – definitely Solstice, based on the tempo. Lisbet glanced at the chrono and saw that it was almost eleven o'clock in the morning. Despite the late hour, she was a little irritated at what felt like an intrusion.

 _Don't be ridiculous_ , she told herself sharply as she went to the entry hallway. She keyed the door open to reveal Solstice on the other side, little Corr in his usual wrap against her chest.

"Are you sick? I went to the shop expecting you to be elbows-deep in weaving already," Solstice said by way of greeting.

Lisbet very casually angled her body to block her from entering, just in case. "I'm fine, I just– I thought I'd sleep in a little today."

"Oh good, I was worried. I wouldn't have disturbed you, but Myles commed me just now. There's a storm headed straight for town." Solstice waited expectantly, as if that was all the explanation Lisbet needed.

"A storm?" Lisbet asked, imagining the manufactured rainclouds that periodically appeared in Coruscant's skies.

"A _sand_ storm, silly," Solstice said as she gestured in the general direction of the center of town. "We have to move everything from the stall in the market back to the shop so it isn't spoiled. This one looks like it'll be vicious – it's big enough already that one of the farms farther north evacuated. Come on, the sooner we start the sooner we finish."

"I don't understand." Lisbet helplessly grabbed her headscarf from its peg by the door, but she didn't step outside. She couldn't just _leave_ him.

Solstice paused a couple paces away. "Surely this isn't your first sand storm here, is it? They're terrible, Lissy, we'll all be shut in for the duration once it hits. Myles thinks this one will last most of the night."

"It won't reach as far as Mos Espa, will it?" Lisbet asked, thinking of her brother and everyone else who was at the race today.

"Maybe, but not until after nightfall. And it shouldn't affect them coming back to Anchorhead tomorrow – if anything it will send the Sand People into hiding. Come on!"

"I'll meet you in the market," Lisbet said. "Let me just… um… just get myself ready. I'll only be a moment."

"I'll pick up the grav cart from Auntie's, then," Solstice replied with a wave of her hand as she turned away.

Lisbet closed the door behind her and went back into the main room. Ben still slept soundly, his face not quite peaceful but at least relaxed. Knowing that she didn't have long before Solstice would wonder at the delay, Lisbet pulled out some of Gareth's clothes and laid them neatly in a pile on the armchair where she'd slept, then grabbed a sheet of flimsi. Tatooine was so backward that they still used the old-fashioned method as much as the modern, so she hastily scribbled a note.

 _Ben,_ she wrote. _I have gone to the marketplace. In case you wake, here are some fresh clothes, since yours are so badly stained. I won't be long._

She stopped herself from adding, _Please don't leave_. For all she knew, she would get back before he even knew she had gone. Propping the note neatly on top of the clothes so that he couldn't miss it, she tucked her scarf over her head and across her nose and headed for the door.

The marketplace was all hustle and bustle when she arrived. Sand storms, she soon learned from old-timers delighted to regale a newcomer, were not terribly common on Tatooine but left a swathe of devastation behind if no one prepared. The entire market would have to be cleared and stowed, since everything not nailed down would blow away or be spoiled by the driving sand.

Solstice soon appeared with the grav cart, and she and Lisbet got to work loading up all the bolts of fabric normally stored in Oona's little market stand. It was hard to imagine what the sand storm would actually be like, since the sky was clear and impeccably blue as they worked.

In the end, it was most of the day before Lisbet made her way back to her own house, and by then the air was getting hazy and dim even though it was just past five in the afternoon. Clearing the fabric stall had only taken her and Solstice about an hour, but they got caught up in helping others in the marketplace who didn't have enough hands with so many gone to Mos Espa. Even though half of Lisbet's mind had been fretting in her living area, sick with worry about Ben, she couldn't think of a good excuse to abandon her neighbours when their merchandise would be ruined otherwise.

"Do you want to bunker up with us tonight?" Solstice had asked before they parted ways when the task was finished. "I can make up the couch, and Corr doesn't cry so much in the night anymore. I hate to think of you shuttered in alone during a storm."

"Thank you, but I'll be alright," Lisbet had said, colouring a little. "I have some books for company."

Now she couldn't fumble with the keypad fast enough, heart in her throat as the front door swished open. The first thing that hit her was a marvelous smell of stew cooking, which was so out of sorts with what she had expected that she faltered on the doorstep.

Still, she hurried into the living area. Both the blanket that she had carelessly discarded that morning and the one that Ben had used were folded neatly in the seat of the armchair, but Ben was nowhere to be seen. Lisbet followed her nose into the kitchen, where she found a tatoe stew bubbling cheerfully in the oven. She realized that she hadn't eaten all day when her stomach growled.

Leaving the beautiful supper behind, she headed for the only remaining room in the house. She stepped into her bedroom just as Ben stepped out of the adjacent refresher, and she pulled up short so quickly that she almost lost her balance. He was shirtless and had changed into Gareth's trousers – except Ben wasn't as tall or broad as her brother, and the waistband sat rather low.

" _Oh_ ," she said, finding the creases of her knuckles absolutely riveting as she willed her face not to betray her with any hint of pinkness.

"I hope you don't mind the intrusion," he said. "I saw your note when I woke, but I took the liberty of using your sonic shower."

"That's alright," she said, risking one fleeting glance at him but quickly looked away again. "You, um, you stank."

"I suppose I did," he replied with the suggestion of a grin in his voice as he put his hands into the sleeves in preparation of pulling the shirt over his head.

"No don't," Lisbet blurted out, then coloured when he arched a questioning brow at her. "I mean, let me look you over before you do that. Oh no– I mean– look over your _injuries_."

He paused as if considering, but nodded. Lisbet looked at him for a long moment before realizing that such an examination would be best in the kitchen with better light, and she was in his way by standing in the doorway. She bolted.

 _Calm down!_ she berated herself once she was back into the wonderful-smelling kitchen. _You're acting ridiculous. Just… just calm down._ Repeating it in her head like a mantra helped a little, and by the time Ben followed her in, she felt a little less flustered.

She reached for the medkit again, since he had removed the bacta patches. He obediently sat down in the same chair as the night before, shirt folded neatly on the table beside him. This time, without the panicked pressure of treating him before he bled out, she noticed how lithe and muscled he was, all lean sinew and quiet power. She also saw the thin silvery markings of scars along his torso and arms.

"You look much better than you did last night," Lisbet commented as she went around behind him to start with the wound on his back.

"A good night's sleep and a little bacta do work wonders," he replied.

Lisbet began to trim down the one remaining bacta patch so there would be enough for his side, too. "How are your ribs? You're awfully bruised, but I don't know how to check for breaks."

"Just sore," he said. "I've broken them before, and this isn't so bad."

She gently pressed the edges of the patch down around the wound on his back, wondering if this was a story he would actually tell her or dodge like so many others. "I didn't think pilots saw much ground combat in the War."

"When all went to plan, they didn't," he said, and that was all. Dodge, then.

"I take it the stew in the oven was your doing," she said to change the subject as she nudged his elbow out of the way so that she could see the wound under his ribs. Some of the bruises across his torso already had a hazy fringe of green around the edges, although there was a nasty one near his hip that had gone almost black in the center. She very studiously did _not_ notice the coils of muscle on his stomach, or the lithe obliques that disappeared into his waistband.

"I hope it wasn't too presumptuous of me," he was saying.

Just then, Lisbet's stomach growled. "On the contrary," she replied with a wry glance up at him as she finished applying the second bacta patch. "I think both of us could do with a meal." She stood and brushed her hands off on her pants even though they were still clean. "There. You should be well on your way back to good health."

"Thank you," he said, pulling on his borrowed shirt with only a little bit of a wince. "You must allow me to repay you in some way for your kindness."

Lisbet had already opened the oven to take out the stew. "You already have by making me supper," she said as she set the steaming dish on the countertop. "Gareth is gone more nights than he's home, so I've mostly cooked for myself. I can't tell you how nice it is to eat someone else's cooking."

"I cannot promise how edible it will be," Ben said.

"If it tastes as good as it smells," she replied, serving up two bowls of it, "then you'll have nothing to worry about."

This was nice, she decided as she sat down across from him. This felt natural, and easy, and _right_. She blew a little on her first spoonful of stew to disperse the curlicues of steam rising from it.

"Well," she said seriously once she had taken a bite, "your cooking passes the test. I won't kick you out."

Ben smiled. "Even so, I plan to pass the night in one of the spare rooms at the cantina. I'll gather my things after we've finished eating."

"You can't," Lisbet said, a little taken aback. It hadn't even occurred to her that he would leave already – although he _had_ healed much faster than she expected. "There's a sandstorm moving in. You would have to leave this minute to get anywhere, and even then it might be too late."

There was only one tiny window in the whole house, presumably because transparisteel was too expensive for wider use. It was set into the back door with a shutter over it, and Lisbet rose to look through it. Sure enough, the air outside was so thick and hazy that she doubted visibility was any more than a meter at best.

She returned to the table and folded her legs up crossways beneath her as she sat back down. "I'm afraid you're stuck."

"So it would seem," he said, his expression hard to read.

"I think I've gotten the stains out of your tunics," she said quickly. "The holes will still need to be mended, but at least you won't permanently look like you've been in a fight."

"Do you have much experience with removing blood from clothing?" he asked with a look of surprised curiosity.

She quirked her head a little, trying to decide if he was serious or teasing her. He looked completely earnest as he waited for her answer. "Well," she said, "more than you might think."

Now he really was intrigued. "Are you getting into brawls that I don't know about?"

"Something like that." She looked down at her stew in a pretense of being coy, although it was mostly to conceal a smile. "It happens about once a month, I'd say."

The slow dawning of realization across his face, followed immediately by a chagrined " _ah_ ," was worth laughing at. He smirked reproachfully at her as she hid her laughter behind both hands, shaking his head with a smile when she only laughed harder at his expression.

"I'll put your clothes into the pulse cleaner overnight," she said, taking pity on him. "They'll be ready in the morning."

"I really cannot thank you enough," Ben said.

"You really don't have to," Lisbet replied. "It's what– um, friends do."

"Even so, it's fair to say that patching up a friend after an attack by Sand People is a little out of the ordinary," he said dryly.

"True," she conceded, then brightened as a thought came to her. "If you want to repay me, will you read aloud again? I have some mending to catch up on, and you have such a good voice for it."

He dimpled faintly down at his almost empty bowl of stew, his eyes soft, and she hoped he was remembering when he had read to her in the weaving shop two months ago.

Just then a howl of wind roared around the house, and impossible as it was, it almost felt like the synstone walls shuddered under the pressure. They shared a look at the sudden, ferocious onslaught.

"It seems the storm is here," Ben said, arching a brow.

Lisbet stood and gathered both of their dishes, dodging his attempt to help. "You're still healing," she said firmly. "I'm no nurse, but I'm pretty sure you should still be on bed rest after being injured so badly."

Looking at him, it _was_ hard to believe that less than a standard day ago, he had been bleeding out and half-delirious with pain and exhaustion. Either he was very, very good at hiding his discomfort now that he had gotten a little rest, or he was an exceptionally quick healer.

"I suppose this is not the time to mention how little I care for medical professionals," he said dryly, but he didn't insist on getting up to help her.

"You _did_ say you endeavor to be a model patient, though," Lisbet countered as she scraped the stew leftovers into her now-flourishing composter and threw a pointed look over her shoulder at Ben.

"So I did." He smiled slowly, and his eyes were a deeper blue than she ever remembered seeing them. Something in his face made the muscles in her belly tauten, and she looked away to hide her blush. Was the nanowave stove still on? The air seemed a little warmer than a moment ago.

"Well," she said as she finished cleaning up, her tone brisk mostly for her own benefit. "I don't intend to sit in these uncomfortable kitchen chairs to do my mending when there's an armchair in the next room."

Maybe he wasn't doing _quite_ as well as he would like her to believe, because standing up clearly cost him more effort than it should. It was less that he looked pained, and more that he was so rigidly expressionless that Lisbet knew he must be hiding it. She tried her best not to hover as they transitioned to the living area. He moved stiffly, like he was much older than his actual age, but he soon was safely ensconced on the sofa again.

"Here," she said, handing him the holobook she'd been reading the night before. "Didn't you call it your variation on singing for your supper?"

"Didn't I just make supper?" he retorted, but took the holobook and turned it to the most recent page before she could form a retort of her own. It was a classic novel that Solstice's mother had loaned to her, and Ben's voice was perfectly suited to the slightly old-fashioned style.

Lisbet curled into the armchair opposite him, and curled her mind into the story as he read. After a few minutes, she remembered she was supposed to be working. She hastily grabbed the mending basket at her feet and pulled out whatever was on top.

They passed most of the evening in this way. At some point, Ben switched from sitting to stretching longways across the couch without dropping a word of narration, his head cushioned by one armrest and his feet propped up on the other.

The chrono had just switched to ten o'clock when Ben finished the last chapter. Lisbet had been done with her mending for at least an hour, but she'd unnecessarily reinforced three sets of closures and buttons just to prolong the need for him read. Now he switched off the holobook and rubbed his eyes. He looked sleepy, perhaps lulled by the familiar story and his comfortable position.

Lisbet put away her mending and tried not stare at him. "I'll fix some tea," she decided, then threw out a hand to stop him. "No, don't get up. I'll only be a minute."

He relaxed back onto the couch reluctantly, but didn't offer protest as she stood and went into the kitchen. While the water was heating up, she tossed his clothes into the pulse cleaner and put away the uneaten stew now that it was cool. She remembered that he took his tea plain, so she stirred sugar into only hers before taking both cups back into the main area.

Bu he was already fast asleep, one arm thrown over the armrest above his head and the holobook still on his chest.

An ache that she couldn't quite place swept down Lisbet's spine. He was so beautiful, and his sleep looked peaceful and relaxed – a stark contrast to the night before. She set down the tea on a side table and shook out the blanket he had so neatly folded earlier. Careful not to disturb him, she spread it over him and slipped the holobook out of his loose fingers.

"Goodnight," she murmured, turning the illuminators down to one-tenth power. She lingered in the doorway to her bedroom only one or two moments longer before closed the door behind her.

The wind outside really was ferocious. She somehow hadn't noticed it while Ben's pleasant voice kept her company, but now she couldn't ignore the strange wailing and constant, driving sound of sand lashing against the house. It made for an unnerving symphony as she quickly changed into her nightclothes and slid under the covers, and she ruthlessly crushed down the temptation to return to the main room.

 _He's fine,_ she told herself, _and so are you._ As nice as it sounded to not be alone on an eerie, stormy night like this, there were limits.

Still, she couldn't relax into more than a restless doze for several hours, jerking awake every time the wind howled louder. Finally, when a particularly powerful blast rumbled around the house, she sat up with a grumbling sigh. The chrono flicked to half-past two in the morning.

Tea would settle her nerves. She hadn't gotten to the cup she made earlier, and a fresh one sounded perfect, anyway. _I can go through the living area without waking him up_ , she reasoned with herself. _I won't even turn on the illuminators in the kitchen. I know where everything is without them._

Decision made, she drew a cozy wrap around her shoulders to ward off the night-chills and slipped out of bed. She hovered a moment at the door, but pressed the control pad and stepped through.

Ben was still asleep, although he had shifted to his uninjured side and curled into himself a little – almost in a defensive posture. The room was too dimly lit to tell, but Lisbet thought that his brows were drawn together even in sleep. She paused. Were his injuries bothering him? Should she wake him, if only to get some pain relievers into his system?

A shuddering gasp racked across his body, his face twisting with misery as he drew in a breath to cry out, and Lisbet's heart dropped out of her ribcage. All at once she realized that the pain had nothing to do with his injuries – he was having a nightmare. Any hesitation forgotten, she closed the distance and knelt beside him.

" _Ben_ ," she whispered, laying a hand on his arm, and that's all it took.

She saw the layers of reflexes flash across his body as he bristled in self-defense and made it almost all the way to his feet, before he relaxed into a sitting position when he recognized her. The grief flooded back into his features and he passed a hand across his eyes, looking more tired than she'd ever seen him.

"I'm sorry." She carefully sat next to him. He was strung taut as the electrobeam of a bowcaster, and she ached to put her arms around him, to carry as much of his heartache as he would allow. But his sharp awakening had reminded her that he was a soldier, and that sometimes the waking was worse than the dreaming for them.

"I hope– I didn't disturb you," Ben said, grasping at some semblance of civility.

"The storm did." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, if only to keep her hands from reaching for him. "Are you alright?"

At first he didn't answer, staring at the floor with a furrowed brow. After a moment he glanced up to meet her eyes, and the ache she saw in his made her breath catch in her throat.

"I – I was dreaming about – my brother," he admitted in a choked whisper, looking away again. "About when he – _died_. I was there."

Lisbet hadn't known that, and tears sprang into her eyes despite herself. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, trying not to imagine watching her own brother die. "It must have been some comfort to him, to have you there."

"It wasn't," Ben replied bluntly. "He was too far gone. I should – I should have found him sooner. I spent my entire adult life training him, raising him, protecting him, but in the end, I… I couldn't save him."

Long ago, as her mother lay unresponsive from an incurable disease, Lisbet had curled up at the foot of her bed while her grandmother tended her dying patient. _You cannot save people_ , her grandmother had said, braiding back faded, thinning hair from her daughter's face. _You can only love them._

At the time, Lisbet had thought it meant protecting people from physical harm – that she couldn't save her mother from death. But now, seeing Ben bowed by the weight of memory, she knew that she'd been wrong. It meant that you cannot save people from their sorrows, from their demons, from themselves.

 _I love him,_ she realized, and it didn't even surprise her – it felt like coming home.

"Ben," she said softly as she finally reached out to cover his hand, slipping her fingers into the hollow spaces between his. His breath hitched almost imperceptibly at the contact, but he didn't pull away. "It wasn't your fault. It _wasn't_."

He didn't say anything, and just studied their entwined hands. Something was crumbling in him, that protective barrier that he wore like armor, and she stayed very still, waiting to see if he would retreat further into himself, or let her in. But then his eyes met hers and she barely had a second to unravel the raw emotion that she found there before he tilted his head forward and kissed her.

His kiss was a gentle thing, and Lisbet could feel herself unfolding to him. His free hand came up to lightly touch the hollow of where her jaw met her throat, just the pads of his fingers grazing her skin as if he needed reassurance that she was real. It almost tickled, and it made something flip low in her belly. She helplessly reached up to twine her own fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, wanting to draw him closer, wanting to lie back and drag him down with her, wanting _him_.

And then he was an absence, and she rocked unsteadily into the space he had just occupied. He had pulled away and now passed a hand across his face, looking heartsick.

"I shouldn't have done that," he said without making eye contact.

" – _What_?" was the only word Lisbet could form.

"I'm sorry," he said, finally meeting her eyes for a split second before quickly looking down again. For once, his face was easy to read, and _stars_ he looked like he'd been tortured.

"It's alright," she said, although she didn't know why _she_ was the one reassuring _him_. She stood up quickly, and because she didn't know what to do with her hands, she grabbed her half-evaporated tea from earlier and fled back into her bedroom without giving either of them a second to explain.

As the door swished shut behind her, she clutched the teacup so close against her chest that she thought it might shatter. What was _that_? He _shouldn't have_? Her whole face down to her neck was burning hot, though she wasn't sure if that was from embarrassment or Ben's recent… proximity. She pressed cold fingers over her eyes, willing herself not to cry.

Some of the tea had sloshed out of its cup in her haste, but there was still a little left. She glanced down at it and took a half-hearted sip. It was tepid and a little stale, but it reminded her of how tired she was.

Maybe Ben's trauma was still too recent for him to let anyone else in. Maybe he really did want to be a hermit out in the abandoned Wastes of a remote planet. Maybe all the careful seeds of trust she had attempted to sow in their relationship weren't enough. _You cannot save people,_ echoed in Lisbet's mind. _You can only love them_.

Feeling heartsore and weary, she crawled into bed. The wind howled desolately outside, and she finally allowed herself to cry.

The next morning when she tentatively slipped out of her room, Ben was gone.

* * *

**agonistes,** _(n., Ancient Greek)_ , someone in the grip of inner conflict.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :)


	13. aswium

Lisbet had barely been in the weaving shop for five minutes before Solstice burst through the door and pounced on her.

"Lissy!" she practically shrieked.

"Good morning to you, too," Lisbet smiled through a wince. The sand storm had finally broken an hour or two before dawn, but she hadn't gotten much sleep all the same and now she had the kind of splitting headache that only follows a restless night of crying.

Solstice was unwrapping Corr from his snug carrier against her chest so that she could put him in the little bassinet that Oona had set up in the corner of the shop. "Don't play coy with me," she scolded with a wounded look that quickly morphed into a delighted grin. "I saw _someone_ slip out of town very early this morning. No wonder you were so strange in the market yesterday! How could you keep such a delicious secret from me!"

"Oh," Lisbet said, her heart sinking. She had woken to find the living area spotlessly unoccupied, with Gareth's clothes already in the pulse-cleaner. Ben must have left at first light. "Well, but, it's not – nothing happened."

"If you _say_ so," Solstice rolled her eyes. With Corr safely sleeping in the bassinet, she opened her bag and started rifling through it before pulling out a squarish package wrapped neatly in brown flimsi. "Ah, here it is. One cup every night, and you won't have anything to worry about."

Lisbet took it when she extended it to her. She realized it was loose tea, although it smelled more medicinal than sweet. "Worry about what?"

"A child, Lissy," Solstice said gently.

"Oh." Of course Tatooine didn't have easy access to modern methods. especially here in Anchorhead. She handed the package back. "I don't need it, but thank you."

"Maybe not _yet_."

"I have a fertility suppressor implant in my arm. It's good for another two years."

"Alright." Solstice took the package and tucked it back into her bag, casting a critical eye on the massive pile of fabric that they had brought in from the market stall. "This will need to be sorted and taken back. Meanwhile, _spill_. Auntie won't be back for hours yet."

Her headache spiked behind her eyes and into her temples, and Lisbet couldn't help but wince. "Do you think there's any caff in the cupboard?"

"I'm sure there is," Solstice said, dropping the fabric in her hands and going to the tiny kitchen area. The caff was a quick brew, and by the time Lisbet had joined her at the little table there were two steaming cups ready. Solstice plopped down in the seat across from her, face rumpled with concern. "Are you alright?"

Lisbet took a tentative sip of the steaming caff, grimacing a little at the bitter taste even though it felt restorative already. "Just tired."

" _Ooooh_ , Lissy, you won't keep me in suspense will you?" Concerns laid to rest, Solstice clasped her hands as if to contain her energy. "I'm dying to know how _Ben Kenobi_ came to be shut in at your house during a sandstorm. I couldn't write that in a romance novel!"

"He actually came two nights ago," Lisbet said. Part of her didn't want to talk about this yet, but she knew she could trust her friend, capricious though she may be. "He had been attacked by Sand People," – she paused for a second to acknowledge Solstice's stricken gasp – "and he needed help. I patched him up as best I could, and he slept on the couch."

"He was attacked, but he got away?" Solstice said, one hand half-covering her mouth. "He must be very strong, Lissy. _No_ one escapes from Tuskens like that."

"He was stabbed twice," she clarified. "And even though he said his ribs weren't broken, but they were awfully bruised."

Something clearly occurred to Solstice. "Oh! When I came yesterday morning – he was there!"

"Sleeping," Lisbet nodded. "I don't know how much blood he had lost, but I think he slept most of the day. He seemed much better when I got back last night, since he'd made supper and had a shower. He offered to find a room at the cantina, but by then the storm had settled in. He read to me and we parted ways and – that was it."

Solstice wrapped her fingers around the steaming cup, eyes alight with curiosity and disbelief. "That was _it?_ "

"Well – " Lisbet looked down at her own caff. It seemed like a betrayal to tell anyone about Ben's nightmare, especially since he was so private about his background. But she _missed_ girl-talks like this, curled up with cups of something hot and believing that they could unravel all the galaxy's troubles if they listened to each other. Solstice was expectant but patient as she took a slow sip.

"He kissed me," Lisbet caved, earning a delighted squeal and a hand-squeeze from her friend. Lisbet flushed and shook her head. "But Solstice – he said that he shouldn't have. It was like he'd been slapped. And then he left before I woke up this morning."

"He _what?_ " Solstice said, aghast and ready to spit venom.

"Something was already troubling him," Lisbet hurried to explain. She didn't know why she felt so protective of Ben and his intentions when she didn't even understand them herself. "I don't – I don't know how much it had to do with me."

"Darling, he kissed you. Whatever was going through his head, he made it about you as soon as he did that. What a ridiculous man! I've half a mind to tell him off the next time he comes to town."

"Oh Solstice, please don't. And please don't tell anyone else. I just–" She looked down. This was harder to admit. "I feel like a silly girl. I think I could never talk about this again and that would be perfectly alright."

"Lisbet," Solstice said firmly, and the full use of her name got her attention. "There is _nothing_ for you to be embarrassed about. Men can be stupid and clueless, and that's not your fault. And if you don't want to talk about it anymore, then we won't."

"Thank you," Lisbet half-smiled. They hadn't quite unraveled all the galaxy's problems, but her heart felt a little lighter all the same. "Why don't we get to work on all this fabric?"

They spent the rest of the morning steadily working through the inventory, Solstice chatting obligingly all the while. Her easy stream-of-consciousness chatter kept Lisbet's mind occupied from overthinking anything else. They expected Oona and the rest of the party to return from Mos Espa sometime in the early afternoon, and just as they were finishing up lunch, they heard speeders pulling up outside the shop.

"Come on, I could use some fresh air," Solstice said, peering up onto her tiptoes to check on Corr across the room. Satisfied that he was sleeping soundly, she headed for the door with Lisbet following behind.

But Oona bustled in before they could make it outside. "Did you collect everything from the market before the storm hit?" she asked by way of greeting as she surveyed the shop, touching things as she passed them as if to reacquaint herself.

"Yes, Auntie, as you see," Solstice said with a fond eyeroll. "And you'll be delighted to hear that no one was injured in the storm, either. How was your trip?"

"It was fine, fine," Oona answered distractedly. "The storm held off until long after the race. Haven't you two woven _anything_ while I was away?"

Lisbet blanched a little, her stomach curdling at what seemed like the precursor to a reprimand. She opened her mouth to reply as she glanced helplessly at Solstice.

"There hasn't been time, Auntie," she cut in with a furtive, reassuring look back at Lisbet. "Lissy finished all that awful beige linen after that you left, but yesterday and this morning we've been all in a tizzy with the sandstorm."

Oona had finally made it over to Corr's bassinet, and she bent over it to softly brush some of the curls from his forehead. "We'll just have to work fast to make up the difference," she said gruffly, straightening and heading for one of the looms.

"Wait – didn't Gareth come back with all of you?" Lisbet asked, realizing that he hadn't come in to say hello.

"Of course he did, girl," Oona said. "But he and that Farlance girl split off so that he could return her home. He asked did me to tell you that he'll be back in time to make you supper and talk, though."

"Oh," Lisbet said, a little surprised that Oona passed along the information without an insult thrown in.

Until – "It's a good thing your brother has a handsome face, because I don't make myself a messenger for just anyone," Oona sneered as she waved a hand dismissively to indicate that this wouldn't happen again.

"Why Auntie," Solstice said theatrically from across the room, putting one hand on her cocked hip. "Are you trying to say that you've found yourself a new beau?"

"Humph," Oona said, and shook a square of satin at her niece.

The rest of the afternoon was a busy blur of catching up on time that had been lost to the storm, and by the end of the day Lisbet ached from fingertips to toes. Solstice was too smart to say anything about Ben in front of Oona, but she did give Lisbet's hand a reassuring squeeze on their way out the door. Lisbet smiled in reply, grateful for the discretion and even more relieved to finally get out of the workshop and head home.

She was hardly in the door of their small house when Gareth stuck his head out of the kitchen with a grin, his wild mahogany curls all askew and windswept. He was definitely overdue for a haircut, but their paths hadn't crossed enough to find time for it lately.

"How was your trip?" Lisbet asked as she hung up her satchel and headscarf on the peg.

Gareth disappeared back into the kitchen, saying, "Come in and sit," as he went. Lisbet followed him, only to pull up short when she rounded the corner and saw the table laden with a variety of food.

"What's this?" she asked, looking at her brother.

"I made dinner," he said as he ushered her into a chair.

"Can we afford this?" she asked tentatively. They still owed Jabba what seemed like an impossible sum of credits thanks to their deceased cousin's gambling, and Gareth paid the debt collectors every two standard weeks when they came calling. Even though they weren't necessarily struggling, the spread of food seemed a little lavish.

"Yes," Gareth replied as he sat across from her, looking like he could barely contain a smile. "I just wanted to celebrate."

Lisbet quirked a questioning half-smile back at him, asking for clarification, and spread a napkin across her lap.

"I asked Erys to marry me," he said, and his face finally exploded into a grin.

"Oh Gareth!" Lisbet exclaimed, covering her mouth with one hand to hold in a squeal as she surged up to give him a hug. "Wait!" – she held him at arm's length – "did she say yes?"

"No, Lis, we're celebrating her refusal," he rolled his eyes with a smile.

"Congratulations, you lump," she grinned, shoving his arm. "I had no idea you meant to propose! How long have you been planning this?"

Gareth gestured her back toward her chair and sat down, himself. "Well, to be honest, I didn't intend to ask her on the trip," he said, serving a portion of the main dish first for her, and then to his own plate. "I meant to talk to you about it first, but Lis – it just seemed _right_."

"Oh?" Lisbet arched an eyebrow as she took a bite. "Mm, this is good. So how did you ask her?"

He grinned stupidly down at his food. "We were walking down the street on the first night we arrived in Mos Espa, going for dinner. It was crowded, worse than the lower levels back on Coruscant. Everybody must have been there for the race because I don't remember Mos Eisley being so cramped. It was so loud that I didn't hear a speeder coming up behind us, but Erys did and tugged me out of the way before I got clipped."

"What?" Lisbet said in melodramatic shock. "You failed to notice and intercept an incoming threat?"

"I know," he replied, too giddy with love to have the decency to look embarrassed. "But Erys did, and that's what made me realize that I don't want to live without her. She's smart and capable and she'll watch my back, too."

"I'm glad, Gare," Lisbet said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "Whatever help you two need with the wedding and preparations, let me know."

"Thanks, Lis," he grinned in reply. "Apparently your party-planning prowess has already made waves in the community after that star seventeen you did with Solstice. Mrs. Farlance already hinted that she would appreciate my 'sweet sister's input' as she put it."

"You can take a girl out of high society," Lisbet shrugged innocently as she stood up and cleared their plates off the table.

"But you can't take high society out of the girl," Gareth laughed. "Speaking of, did you spend most of your time with Solstice while we were away?"

Lisbet paused, glad that she had gone to the pulse cleaner and now her brother couldn't see her face. "We spent most of yesterday together clearing the marketplace ahead of the storm," she said neutrally. How could she even begin to explain to him about everything that had happened with Ben? If Solstice's reaction had been strong, Gareth's would be a hundredfold. He would be furious and a little frightened, and she couldn't do that to him when he was so giddy with his engagement. It would keep – she could tell him later. In the morning, maybe.

"And you weathered the storm alright?" he was saying. "I checked the vaporator when I got home but I saw you already cleared out the excess sand."

She hadn't thought to empty the filter out of their personal unit – Ben must have done it sometime before he slipped away this morning. "The noise from the wind made it a little hard to sleep," she answered, "but otherwise I hardly noticed the storm at all."

By then they had cleared the table and put away the excess food, and Gareth nudged her shoulder with his elbow. "Come on," he said, heading toward the living area. "I got a new holodrama that I think you'll like. Let's watch it."

They spent the evening cozily ensconced in a movie, which was a welcome distraction for Lisbet. It wasn't until much later, once Gareth had gone to bed and she was reading in her room, that she realized what his impending marriage would mean. He was already gone so much, and now he would move out entirely. Instead of them being a sibling unit, his time would go to Erys. As irrational as she knew it was, Lisbet couldn't help but feel an aching undertow of abandonment.

For the second night in a row, she cried herself to sleep.

* * *

**aswium ||** **아쉬움,** _(n., Korean)_ , a mingling of unsatisfaction, wistfulness, disappointment, regret,  
higher hopes, frustration, and sadness that something has or did not happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> even though this chapter was relatively short, it was such a bear to write. i'm not totally happy with it but at some point it just had to go out or not be written at all! shoutout to Velk for dropping in every now and then, and to amelia for reassuring me when i was upset with myself and the whole writing process. the next chapter is already underway though!


	14. torpe

"I don't know _where_ that boy could be," Oona grumped as she finished off a length of maroon cotton and aggressively folded it, as if creasing its folds was the only way to express her irritation. "It's been far too long. Maybe he's dead out in the desert, or eaten by Tuskens."

Lisbet winced, since the old weaver was facing away and couldn't see her. Solstice could, though, and shot her a sympathetic look.

Of course Oona was talking about Ben, who hadn't returned to Anchorhead in almost six weeks. Oona knew nothing about his visit while everyone was away at the podrace, so by her reckoning it was even longer. By Lisbet's reckoning it was long enough to send a clear message – except she also couldn't stop thinking about how much blood he'd lost, and how dangerous it must have been for him to return to the Waste so soon after an injury.

"I'm sure he has a very good reason for the delay, Auntie," Solstice said, although she was looking at Lisbet when she spoke. This exchange had been repeated multiple times between them.

"Maybe he's just done with Anchorhead," Lisbet said, surprising herself with how sharply she spoke. "There's not much of interest here. He's better off going to Mos Eisley if he needs anything."

"Speak for yourself, girl," Oona sniffed as she primped her white hair unconsciously. "There's plenty of interest here for the discerning palette."

Lisbet didn't bother with an answer for fear she would say something sharper still. She could feel Solstice's concerned eyes on her, but she didn't return the look. The weaving workroom was too small, too cramped, too suffocating today; she wished she could bolt for freedom – or better yet, bolt for open space and leave this dusty planet behind, at least for a little while.

"Oona," she said suddenly, standing up. "I've just realized that I – I left something at home. Would you mind if I take my lunch break to fetch it?"

"Hmmph," was the only reply she got, since Oona was deeply engrossed in the tricky workings of an old hand loom. Taking it as consent, Lisbet strode to the door, grabbing her headscarf as she went. She could hear Solstice hurrying to catch up behind her, but she went all the way outside before waiting for her.

"I'm fine," she said to forestall questions as the door slid shut behind both of them. The noon suns were intolerably bright in the sky, and she shaded her eyes while they adjusted to the change. "I just need some air."

"Auntie _is_ in rare form today," Solstice sighed. "I'm sorry, Lissy. If you want to take a nice long break, I'll distract Auntie so she doesn't notice."

Lisbet squeezed her friend's hand. "Thanks, Solstice. I'll be back in a bit."

She hadn't really forgotten something at home, so Lisbet let her feet guide her just to clear her head. She avoided the market, since she only looked for Ben there anyway. Instead she wandered down the more residential side streets, sticking to the shade where she could.

After a while, though, the suns bore down so relentlessly that she decided to go indoors, and headed for her little house to eke out a few more minutes before returning to the weaving shop. It would be nice to make lunch there anyway. She rounded the last corner before her doorway – and yanked to a stop, heart clenching around her windpipe so suddenly that her chest almost hurt.

Sitting cross-legged in Rooh's hulking shadow against the side of her house was Ben, his eyes closed either in thought or drowsiness from the oppressive heat. In the confused split second that she was deciding whether or not to bolt back in the direction she came, he seemed to notice she was there and hurriedly stood.

"Lisbet," was all he said, but it looked like there were a thousand things on the tip of his tongue.

"Hello," she replied, more coolly than she meant.

"You're earlier than I expected," he said, unconsciously brushing away Rooh's head when she inquisitively sniffed at his collar. "Or rather – it's only noon, and I thought you would still be at work for a while longer."

"You were waiting for me?" she asked, and wished her stomach wouldn't flip-flop quite so much.

"I hoped we might talk," he replied quietly with grave eyes, "but if you prefer that I go, I will go."

"You don't – you don't have to," she said, taking one tentative step toward him. "It's so hot out here – um – would you like to come inside?"

"Thank you," he said, but hesitated. "May I stable Rooh in your shed?"

"Yes," she said as her heart wilted. Any ease that had been between them, any warmth or familiarity, had vanished and they were back to the uncertain tiptoeing of acquaintances. "You, um, you know where it is."

Before, he might have dimpled faintly at her flustered words, but now he just nodded and turned toward the passageway between her house and the next. Lisbet let herself in through the front door and went immediately into the kitchen to start a kettle. While she was at the counter she filled her palms with a few precious drops of cool water and pressed them against her cheeks and neck, trying to calm her overheated skin.

The kettle began to boil and she stared at it for a few seconds before pouring its contents into the teacups. She'd spent the last six weeks wondering and worrying and resigning herself to Ben's silence, but now that he was here she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear his reasons.

 _I shouldn't have done that,_ he had said, just after _he_ had leaned in to kiss _her_.

But then there was his soft knock on the back door, and she pressed her thumb over the control pad to open it. No matter her uncertainty, he was here now and there was no telling if he would ever come to Anchorhead again.

"Please sit," she said, gesturing across the kitchen table to the other chair as she sat down. She felt a little more sure of herself in here; it was more formal than the living area, if only because the furniture was harder in contrast to the soft, comfortable armchair and couch. He had slept on that couch – he had _kissed_ her on that couch. "I made tea."

"Thank you," he said as he took a seat. He picked up his cup, but didn't drink from it.

She, meanwhile, took a slow sip from hers, watching him over the rim. Ben was clearly gathering himself to tell her something difficult, but she didn't feel like she owed him the courtesy of making it easy by asking him to explain his behavior: the kiss and subsequent departure and long absence since.

"Lisbet," he tentatively began, and the way he said her name paired with how he looked at her with those impossibly blue eyes melted a little of the irritation she still harboured against him. "My true name is not Ben. I took it when I came to Tatooine a little over a year ago."

Cold confusion gripped her spine, mingled with a spike of fear and disappointment at the admission that he had been lying to her all this time, even after she surrendered the secret of her identity. "Then who are you really?" she asked, wishing the words hadn't come out in a tremulous whisper.

"My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi," he replied, his own voice soft, "and I am one of the last of the Jedi Order."

Her hands froze around the teacup. His name was only vaguely familiar to her, but everybody knew the word _Jedi_. Knew that they had bred an army of clones as cannon fodder, that they had been named by the Emperor as traitors who corrupted the Republic, that they had been purged from the galaxy after attempting a takeover.

And here was one at her kitchen table.

Lisbet stared into her rapidly cooling tea, unable to look at him. Her muscles felt locked in place while her mind stalled in circles, and one absurdly clear thought rose above the din: Gareth had been right after all. The stranger from Coruscant was not as he seemed.

"You have nothing to fear from me," Ben – Obi-Wan? – said, his voice aching. That was enough for her to meet his eyes, which were so filled with anguish that despite everything, her heart lurched toward him. "Please – please don't be afraid of me."

"You lied to me," Lisbet said as she looked away again.

"I had to," he replied. "I thought you might understand. You lied to me, too, in the beginning. To protect yourself and your brother."

"Then who are you protecting?" The question slipped out before she gave herself time to consider whether she wanted to know the answer.

He didn't reply for a moment. Then, quietly, "A child."

"Yours?"

"No." He ran a hand over his beard. "My brother's."

"Was he a Jedi, too?" The questions were stacking up, and each new one made her more confused. Of course the child wasn't Ben's, because Jedi didn't have families. Then how did he have a brother and a father of whom he spoke so highly? She shook her head a little to clear her head. "Maybe you should start at the beginning."

So he did. As he spoke, she felt her anger fading away. She knew from firsthand experience what the Emperor was capable of, so it didn't surprise her to learn that he had twisted the public image of the Jedi during the war. And aside from the Order as a whole, Ben's personal tragedy made her bones ache with sympathy.

"When you had the nightmare about your brother – about Anakin," she guessed after he had finished talking, "that's what you meant."

"I should have killed him." The confession came out of him like it had been wrenched from his throat against his will.

"What?" Lisbet asked, startled.

"Do you remember how I spoke of receiving bad news when I came to you after being attacked by Tuskens?"

"Yes," she replied. Of course she remembered everything about that night, how he had appeared at her door with an injured body and an even more wounded spirit.

"I had just learned of Palpatine's new right hand," Ben said slowly. "Anakin is gone, and Darth Vader has taken his place. I could have spared him that. I could have –" His voice cracked and he looked away, sucking in a shuddering breath.

Despite herself, Lisbet reached for him across the table. It was only her hand over his, but the contact made him flinch. She pulled away.

"You're a Jedi," she realized, the full implication starting to dawn on her.

"Yes," he said.

"What –" Her breath hitched and she took a second to collect herself. "What are you asking of me?"

"A Jedi shall have no attachments," he replied quietly. "I'm so sorry, Lisbet. It's all I have left."

She sat back, reaching for her long-cold teacup if only to have something to pretend to focus on. No attachments meant no falling in love, no surrender of self to another soul. To her, it was senseless almost the point of absurdity – but that didn't matter. He believed in it.

"I think I understand," she said slowly. "I won't ask you to choose between me and your beliefs." She coloured a little at what suddenly felt like an awkward assumption that she was a choice at all. "But – I just – what does this mean? Now that you've told me everything?"

"I _am_ sorry that I kissed you," Ben said, his grey eyes clear and steady and sad. "If I hadn't, this would be easier."

 _I'm not sorry,_ she thought, although she knew saying it aloud would probably make him sadder. "You said that a Jedi shall have no attachments," she said instead. The words felt formal on her tongue, and she wondered if they came from a longer list of ceremonial phrases. "But shall a Jedi also have no friends?"

His expression softened, perhaps with relief. "Friends are permitted."

"Then we'll be friends," she replied firmly even though her heart sank, "and we'll forget everything else." If this was all he could give her, then it would just have to be enough.

Ben opened his mouth to answer, but paused. He was always so measured, so thoughtful, and part of her wished that he would just blurt out whatever first came to his mind. But then she supposed that the one time he had acted without thinking around her was when he kissed her, and he had immediately regretted that.

"Thank you," he finally said.

It wasn't the kind of thing to which one replied _you're welcome_ , so instead Lisbet drained the last mouthful of her tea and stood. She realized too late that getting up sent him a signal, since he rose with her. She didn't want him to leave – but she didn't want to keep having this conversation, either. Maybe she was a little sorry that he had kissed her, if it meant changing things so much.

"I should go before it gets dark," he said even though sunsdown wasn't for hours yet.

"No need to risk being attacked by Tuskens again," she said, smiling slightly as a hesitant peace-offering.

"Hardly." He dimpled a little in reply, but his eyes were still sad.

"I'm glad you told me," she blurted out. "That you explained instead of staying away. Even if it means–" She cut herself off.

"You deserved to know the truth," he replied quietly, then gestured back to the table. "Thank you for the tea. You have always been a gracious hostess."

Instead of lingering like he'd done in the past, he moved toward the door as he spoke. The space in the kitchen was so tight that Lisbet brushed against his cloak sleeve as she reached around him to touch the control pad. When the door swished open, she was almost surprised to see that the suns hadn't moved much – it seemed like hours has gone by while they talked.

"Safe travels," she said as Ben stepped over the threshold onto the sand outside. He acknowledged her by inclining his head, but it seemed like both of them had run out of things to say. He headed toward the shed and Rooh, who had perked up at the sight of them.

Watching him leave, Lisbet suddenly remembered something he had said almost at the beginning of their conversation.

"Ben, wait," she called after him.

He turned back around to her and she closed a little of the distance between them, although they were still a few paces apart. He had folded back into himself, his face carefully composed and closed off. Like they didn't know each other.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said, because she didn't know how else to say I love you in a way that he wouldn't reject. "Earlier, when you told me that you're a–" She stopped, mindful of neighbors' listening ears even though it seemed like they were alone. "When you told me your name. I'm not afraid of you."

Some of his composure crumbled, and she wondered if he had heard what she actually meant. His gaze flickered down to her lips for the barest second, but by the time her stomach flipped he had looked away.

"Safe travels," she said again just to spare them both the awkward silence.

"Thank you, Lisbet," he said, and for a moment it seemed like he was trying to speak in subtext, too. But then he recollected himself and simply said, "Goodbye."

"Goodbye," she replied, hating the finality of the word. He turned away again, but she couldn't bring herself to go back inside. Even the gentle way he brushed Rooh's questing nose out of the way when he untied her reins made Lisbet love him that much more.

 _He's a Jedi,_ she reminded herself, even though their austere moral code was an empty reason to her. The Jedi were gone, their way of life passing into memory. _And you had to fall in love with one of the last._

But he had lost _everything_ , his whole world and family and home in less than a day. If forsaking his vows or oaths or whatever the Jedi took caused him even greater grief than what he already carried, then she could never ask him to do that. She could bury her feelings and remain only his friend to protect him from any more heartache.

That didn't stop her from wishing, as he led Rooh away and raised a hand in farewell, that he had chosen her instead.

* * *

 **torpe,** _(n., Tagalog)_ , a man who is desperately in love with a woman but cannot admit his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those who enjoy songs that pertain to fanfic chapters, i listened to trenches and charms by jon bryant a lot while writing this. thank you for reading!


	15. rarissima

Lisbet stretched awake, trying to loosen the tension in her neck and shoulders. All the strain from sitting at a loom every day only seemed to be compounding on itself, and sometimes she woke up with a headache. As she tilted her head to work out a knot, she heard soft laughter coming from the kitchen and ran a hand over her eyes. She had forgotten that Erys was coming into town on Gareth's day off to settle some wedding preparation.

She _liked_ Erys, and in many ways helping with wedding plans had been a welcome distraction – but it was also an inescapable reminder that she was very much alone. As Lisbet dressed for the day, she took the time to prepare herself to be pleasant. In the three weeks since her last conversation with Ben, she had found that it cost much more effort than usual to put herself into a good mood.

Cordial face firmly in place, she left her bedroom and went into the kitchen.

"Good morning," Erys said as Lisbet entered. She and Gareth were ensconced at the table, but even with them seated there wasn't much room to maneuver. Erys rose, draining the dregs of her from her cup. "I made some extra caff if you'd like some."

"Thank you," Lisbet said. She preferred tea in the morning, but she was grateful for the kind gesture and some bracing caff might help with her headache.

"I'm off to the community center," Erys continued, sidestepping in the tight space around the table to make more room for Lisbet to get into the kitchen. Gareth stood up to follow her, squeezing Lisbet's arm as he passed with a sleepy _good morning._

"I'll be along at lunchtime to catch up on what you've done," Lisbet said. Much like with the star-seventeen three months ago, she was the unofficial coordinator for the wedding since she lived in town and Erys did not. The planning process had been easier in many ways, but the bulk of her responsibilities would be on the day itself, keeping everything running smoothly and on schedule.

"See you then," Erys smiled over her shoulder as she left. Gareth disappeared after her, so Lisbet poured herself a cup of caff in silence. She was just stirring in some blue milk when he reentered, still drowsy-eyed and his hair tousled from sleep.

"She's nice," Lisbet said, smiling over the rim of her cup at how he groggily rubbed his eyes and reached for his own caff. She appreciated that Erys had given them a little space, both literally and figuratively, since mornings with her brother were few and far between.

"She's an early bird," Gareth replied. "She must have left her house right at dawn to get here so early."

"Poor Gare," Lisbet feigned melodramatic sympathy, "not permitted to sleep in on his day off."

"Hmph," he retorted into his drink.

"Aren't you supposed to help her with preparations today?"

"I will. I just wanted to stay back and talk with you before you go to work since I'll be gone the rest of the week."

"That sounds ominous." Lisbet raised a brow at him.

"Well, it's just that we should settle living arrangements after the wedding," he replied.

"I assumed you would move to Erys' homestead full-time," she said. It hadn't occurred to her that this was even a discussion that they needed to have. "You're there most nights already."

Gareth nodded, his dark eyes big and earnest. "I will. But, you know, Lis – you know that you're welcome there, too? Right?"

"Can we not afford this place?" Lisbet asked, keeping her voice even. The thought of moving again – into someone else's house no less, after finally having her own – spooked her more than she wanted to admit.

"No, it's not that at all," Gareth replied quickly. "It'll be tight, I think, but we can manage. We're almost halfway through the debt, anyway. It's just that, well, I know I've been gone a lot, but this will be all the time. I hate leaving you alone."

So _that's_ what was bothering him. Lisbet kicked him gently under the table to get his attention, which he had fixed on his cup of caff. "Hey. I like living here in town. How would I get to work at the shop if I lived all the way out on a farmstead? And it's _right_ for you and Erys to begin a life together – without me in your pocket. The two of you will just have to come visit me for dinner all the time."

"So you'll stay here," he said, looking a mixture of relieved and the tiniest bit disappointed.

"I'll stay here," she affirmed, then grinned. "Until we pay off the debt, anyway. After that I'm moving into the fanciest villa in town."

Gareth laughed into his caff. Their actual plans once they paid the debt to Jabba were nebulous at best, and it still seemed too far away to begin dreaming about anything yet. And with him getting married and putting down roots on Tatooine, Lisbet half-wondered if that meant he wanted to stay permanently.

When they had fled Coruscant fourteen months ago, she had hoped that their exile would be temporary. A year or two, long enough to be forgotten, and then they could quietly return home to Hosnian Prime. She hadn't counted on forming relationships with the local people – or falling in love.

 _Gareth_ _falling in love_ , she told herself firmly, pushing thoughts of Ben and the accompanying heartache from her mind. Even knowing his true name, he was simply Ben to her – Ben, who was golden and kind and gentle, and who would not – _could not_ love her in return.

"Are you alright?" Gareth's voice jolted her back into the present moment. She hadn't told him anything about Ben's identity, mostly because he had no love for the Jedi. He considered them failures and hypocrites for allowing corruption to flourish under their noses, and while he hadn't celebrated their slaughter, he didn't miss them, either.

Lisbet summoned a smile. "I'm fine. I should probably head to the shop before Oona fusses, though."

"No breakfast?" he asked, shocked at the omission of what he considered a crucial part of the day.

"I haven't been hungry in the mornings lately," she shrugged as she set her now empty cup into the pulse cleaner. "I'll eat later."

"Well, have a good day," he said, rising from his seat to press a kiss to her temple on his way to the door.

"You too," she replied. Once she had gathered her lunch for later and tucked her headscarf over her hair, she followed him out into the bright morning air.

* * *

As Lisbet stepped out of the community center's front door later, the brilliant midday sunlight sent a knifing surge of pain behind her eyes. She had spent most of her lunch break with Erys to go over wedding plans, and now that it was time to return to work she wished she had a half-hour to lay down. Shading her eyes from the suns while they adjusted, she released a slow breath.

Today was _never_ going to end, and neither was this headache.

It took one more pulsing throb in her temples for her to decide to go to Tosche Station and buy some pain relievers from the meagre med pantry there, even though it would take her through the noise of the marketplace. Decision made, she headed toward the Station, wishing for a pair of tinted goggles like she had seen some pilots wear to protect their vision.

She exchanged smiles with a few of the vendors she frequented as she passed through the market. It was still fairly busy from the lunchtime rush, with enough people milling around that she had to weave between them while she walked. At least the overhangs above the stalls provided some shade so that she didn't have to squint her eyes.

Lisbet was almost through the market when the crowd parted just so, and she glanced up at exactly the right moment to lock eyes with Ben. Her heart abruptly lodged in her windpipe and she didn't know what to do with her hands. He was a couple of meters away, engaged in conversation with Oona – although she was clearly doing all the talking while his gaze burned something like a plea in Lisbet's direction.

Half her instincts screamed to duck into a stall as if she hadn't seen him, while the other half yearned for him like the gravitational pull of a star. She was still far enough away that she _could_ leave without speaking to him – but she wanted to answer whatever question he was asking her with his eyes. She wanted to book a transport off Tatooine bound for anywhere but here. She hesitated, caught in aching confusion.

In the end gravity won out, and the relief on his face as she made her way over made something uncoil just the slightest measure in her chest. Because of her headache she hadn't braided up her hair that morning as she usually did, and now she swept it over one shoulder just for something to do.

"Hello," Ben said as soon as she was close enough to join the conversation.

"Hello," she replied, not quite able to look at him. "Oona, I, um, I didn't know know you were coming to the market this afternoon."

Oona did not look impressed at the intrusion. "And I did not know that I must inform you of my plans each day. Are you my keeper, girl?"

"No, of course not," she stammered, already regretting that she came over.

"What brings you to the marketplace today, Lisbet?" Ben asked in a somewhat misguided attempt to rescue her, since the only way to placate Oona at this point would be to let her be the center of attention.

"My brother is getting married next month," Lisbet replied, "and I am helping to coordinate the event, so some things needed settling today. Oona is providing linens for the wedding."

"That's very generous of you," Ben said without looking away from Lisbet, who couldn't quite return the eye contact.

"Well," Oona said, waving a hand dismissively, "the fabrics were so well received at Tavrie's star-seventeen that it seemed a shame not to use them again. I'm told it's the fashion in Core worlds to coordinate weddings to a certain colour scheme."

"Is it?" he asked as he glanced at Oona just long enough to be civil.

Lisbet had been the one to tell her this in the first place, but she didn't feel like clarifying. Her head still hurt, and it was too soon to be relaxed with Ben, especially with Oona there. She looked up at him for a second, willing him to understand.

"So I'm told," Oona said as she eyed both of them suspiciously.

"Well, I am certain that the happy couple will be very grateful for the contribution," Ben said diplomatically, as if he finally came to his senses. "And now if you will excuse me, I should finish my errands in town."

"So soon?" Oona crooned, putting a wrinkled hand on his arm. In her youth, she must have broken all the hearts in this small town.

"I'm afraid so." Ben extracted himself with the utmost aplomb by returning her hand to the handle of her basket and leaving it there with a gentle pat. "As always, Oona, it was a pleasure to see you. Good afternoon." He turned to Lisbet and inclined his head to her. "Good afternoon, Lisbet."

And there was that question in his eyes again, but she was too overheated and tired to puzzle it out. "Good afternoon," she replied, returning the gesture but not his gaze.

He hesitated a fraction of a second before turning away, and Rooh's lanky bulk obscured him from view. Oona barely let him get out of earshot before rounding on Lisbet.

"Something has happened between the two of you," she grumbled. "You've had a falling out."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Lisbet replied, keeping her eye contact cool and steady even though she felt a rush of heat creep up her neck. Handmaidens were expected to bluff their way past unsavoury gossip if necessary, but it had never been her strongest suite. "I've hardly seen him the past few months."

"Well I haven't seen him at all until today," Oona said. " _You've_ seen him, and you've quarrelled. Or there was a misunderstanding. I'm not a fool, girl. You could barely look at the man."

 _Except we neither quarrelled nor misunderstood each other,_ Lisbet thought sourly. But instead she said, "I'm going to Tosche's. Can I pick anything up for you while I'm there?"

"No," Oona sniffed. "And don't take too long with your errand. There's much to do before the next shipment."

"I'll be quick," Lisbet promised as she turned away.

She spent the short remainder of her walk and the time rustling through Tosche Station's med supplies clamping down the flurry of emotions that Ben had evoked. They were still friends, weren't they? There had been a flash of potential for something more, but that was over and it didn't mean _everything_ was over. He was still incredibly dear to her. She could be his friend without any awkwardness. She _would_.

By the time she paid and headed for the door, she decided that the next time she saw him there would be no awkwardness at all. She would give absolutely no indication that anything had been changed by his kiss. But then she stepped outside, and there was Ben again, tying Rooh's long reins to the post outside the station. All her resolve to be calm shattered for an instant and she took a breath, regathering it.

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon," she said as she joined him, brushing a hand lightly down Rooh's long snout in a tentative attempt to act naturally.

"Neither did I," he replied, though he didn't look surprised. "But I cannot say I am disappointed. I have something for you."

"Oh?" Lisbet asked, perplexed. The only thing she could think of was more herbs for her sunblock, but she still had plenty of that.

He withdrew from Rooh's saddlebag a thin, oblong object that she couldn't immediately identify. "I had a bad feeling about giving you this with Oona present," he said, extending it to her.

She took it, and only once it was in her hands did she realize what it was. "A book!" she gasped as she opened it to touch one of the flimsi pages. "A real one – how did you get it?" She had never seen a _real_ book, with a front and back cover and pages to turn, before. She blanched as the implication sunk in. "This must have been so expensive. I can't accept–"

"Hardly," Ben said. "Do you remember the bookstore in Mos Eisley of which I spoke some time ago?"

"Yes," Lisbet replied slowly, still ready to hand the impossibly beautiful gift back.

"I found it in a curio bin in the back. Some trader must have brought it in, not knowing its worth. The clerk sold it to me for next to nothing. Please accept it, as a small thanks for your care when I was injured."

She hesitated for another moment before glancing down to really look at it. It was a fairly common children's book, with a simple story to accompany softly rounded caricatures of various animals. She turned the pages, feeling the weight and texture of the flimsi.

"There's an eopie." She finally allowed herself to smile as she tilted the book so that he could see.

"I know the content is perhaps a little below your reading level," Ben replied with the slightest dimpling in return. "But I hoped you would prefer it to a holobook."

"I do," she said, hardly able to look up from the charming illustrations. "This is so lovely, Ben. Thank you."

"Not at all," he replied quietly. "Thank you again for your care when I was injured."

This was familiar territory, the polite circling of courtesy, and they both knew it. Even as they shared a brief smile of recognition, Lisbet's heart sank with a pang of longing. She could pretend to be only his friend, but it would hurt.

"I should get back to the shop," she said, folding her arms over the book to hold it against her chest. "Oona will wonder what's taken me so long."

"Of course," Ben said. He hesitated a split second, then bowed slightly. "Have a pleasant afternoon."

"You too," she replied. With a final pat to Rooh's neck, she turned away and headed in the direction of her house so that she could drop off the book there. Lisbet could feel Ben watch her go for a moment, and she half-debated turning around. But then the feeling passed.

She returned her attention to his gift in her arms. The corners were worn and the spine was cracked, but she had never held anything more precious. She opened it again, and saw there was an inscription on the inside of the front cover written in a beautiful hand:

 _To Lisbet,  
_ _From Ben._

* * *

 **rarissima,** _(n., English)_ , extremely rare books, manuscripts, or prints.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those who like to know the musical influence for chapters, i listened to varúð by sigur rós a lot while writing this one. :)


	16. redamancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i'm so sorry this update took so long. i would tell you all the reasons why, but they are all just boring busy life things. this chapter is extra long to make up for it, and i hope that by the end you'll think it was worth the wait.

Lisbet wiped the sweat off her forehead and sighed. She had already stripped down to her singlet undershirt and rolled her trousers up to her knees in an attempt to cool off, but it wasn't much help. The cooling unit at the community center had puttered out and died hours ago, and without any cool air circulating inside the building it had gotten stuffy and hot.

It had been a long afternoon of mishaps actually; first the cooling unit, with no one to fix it until the working day ended later. And then Gareth and Erys were supposed to help Lisbet decorate and prepare the community center for the wedding the next day, but they had been delayed by problems while moving Erys' mother to her other daughter's house. Lisbet wasn't even sure what had happened, since she had received the news secondhand from the cantina owner, who hadn't bothered to pay much attention to the comm message.

And there was really nothing for it – the wedding was the next morning and there wasn't time to wait for reinforcements to prepare the space. Lisbet had figuratively rolled up her sleeves and gotten to work.

But now, with the stifling mid afternoon heat pressing in on her and hours of work still ahead, she just wanted a break. Plus, the stacks of chairs to be set up were too tall and heavy for her to do alone. It was a long-shot, but the likeliest place to find help was the cantina. If nothing else, she could probably bribe a few boys that loitered around Tosche Station with a handful of wupiupi.

The sunlight was even hotter when she stepped outside, but at least a faint breeze stirred the sweltering air a little. Lisbet tried to stick to the shade of other buildings as she hurried to the cantina since she had forgotten her headscarf and had bare arms without her usual tunic.

It was at least an hour after lunchtime, so there wasn't much bustle inside the cantina as she paused just inside the doorway, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the much lower light compared to the brightness outside. She hadn't expected many people to be there this time of day anyway, but at least she could get a cold drink and refresh herself.

"Lisbet," the voice was familiar and sounded just a little startled.

She turned around, startled too. Ben had just come in the door after her, and she hurried to move out of the way. "Oh, I'm blocking the entrance."

In the six weeks since he had given her the book, she'd seen him once in the marketplace on her way home from work. He had been facing away from her, but she would know the slope of his shoulders and his long, dark cloak anywhere. She had ducked behind the fruit merchant's stall and slipped down a back passage to get home, feeling both silly and relieved at the evasion.

Now there was no bolthole unless she brushed past him to get back out the door – which she actually considered for one desperate second.

"How are you?" he asked, bringing her back to reality.

"Very well, thank you," she replied, although she knew she must look like a mess with her cheeks flushed from heat and wisps of hair around her face frizzing up from sweat. "How are you?"

"I am well," he said.

He was so imperturbably calm, and Lisbet wrangled her tumultuous emotions to at least outwardly match him.

"It's unlike you to be here at this hour," he continued. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes – well, no," she replied haltingly. There was no reason to tell him of her troubles, but they all came tumbling out anyway. "The wedding is tomorrow, and there's so much to do to prepare, and Gareth and Erys have been held up for some reason although I don't know what it is, and they could have been kidnapped by Sand People for all I know, and the cooling unit isn't pumping air at all, and I can't lift the chairs–"

She realized she was rambling and cut herself off, her face even hotter than before. So much for appearing calm.

Ben had listened patiently. "What can I do to help?"

"Oh, I didn't mean–" she stammered, dismayed that her ramble might have sounded like a cry for attention. "I couldn't possibly put you out like that–"

"It would be my pleasure," he said. "At least allow me to look at the cooling unit. I've repaired my own so many times that I must be an expert by now."

She hesitated another measure. Of course his offer was tempting – not just to have the help, but also to spend time with him as they used to. But she feared what it would do to her, and whether she could keep her heart locked away.

"I hate to inconvenience you," she said.

"You wouldn't," he replied. "Otherwise, I will wait out the midday heat here. You would do me a favour by giving me something to do."

Of course Ben could frame his kindness as if  _she_  was the one offering it. It was too late; her heart was lost to him for good. Now it was just a matter of hiding that from him.

"Alright," she said, elated by the decision despite her misgivings. "Though I have no tools to offer you to aid your efforts."

"I can make do," he said, already turning to go back outside. Lisbet reached for her headscarf before remembering that she didn't have it, and followed him.

"I can't remember a day as hot as this," she said, mostly just to avoid an awkward silence as they headed toward the community center. She felt underdressed with her bare arms and calves compared to his many layers, but she couldn't bring herself to care. It was far too sweltering for layers.

"At least there is no humidity," Ben replied.

"I wouldn't mind humidity if it meant rain." The thought of unrestricted water made her heart clench with longing.

He gave her a sidelong smile. "I agree."

It was a quick walk; within a few moments they were at the doorstep of the community center.

"It's just through here," Lisbet said, leading him through the hallways to the utility room. It was oppressively hot in there, since it was tucked in a corner of the building with no airflow. Lisbet gestured to the cooling unit. "The controls are dead. I can't get anything to turn on."

Ben produced a small multitool from his belt and gently pried off the cover of the control panel. It sprang free to reveal a mess of wires and a small waft of smoke. "It would appear a fuse has burnt out," he said with an arched brow.

"And one wire is enough to bring the whole coolant system down?" Lisbet asked, leaning in closer to see over his shoulder.

"The right one, yes." He tilted his head just the slightest angle toward her, noticing her proximity, which made Lisbet realize how close she had gotten. She shifted away, grateful that the heat gave her an excuse to be flushed.

"It appears that the control panel was collateral damage," Ben continued as he began to untangle the knot of wires. "Any one of these could have shorted it out, and the system will need to be reprogrammed. This must have been repaired many times over the years – it's in quite a state."

Lisbet watched him work, not quite sure what to do with herself. She was reluctant to leave in case he needed a second set of hands, but she also didn't want to hover.

"Can it be saved?" she asked after a moment, to break the silence.

"I believe it can," he replied without looking up from the panel he was dismantling, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"What can I do?"

He found what he was looking for, and carefully detached a small green fuse that had dark scorch marks on one side. "Perhaps you would take this to Tosche Station for a replacement? I can reprogram the system while you're gone."

"Alright," she replied, taking the proffered fuse from him.

It was a quick trip that she made quicker by hurrying. Tosche's had the fuse in stock, which was lucky according to the clerk who looked like he wanted to make small talk during a boring shift. Lisbet thanked him, paid for the replacement, and left without a second thought.

The brief respite in the cool recycled air made the walk back to the community center that much hotter; Lisbet doubted there were actual seasons on Tatooine, but today might well be the summer solstice for how scorching it was. The whole wedding party would owe Ben a favour if he could fix the coolant unit.

The hot air seemed to deaden her footsteps as she hurried back down the hallways to the utility room. At the doorway, she pulled up short. Ben was still working on the control panel, but he had shed all his many layers down to bare skin on top, the cords of muscle on his back already sheened with sweat.

 _Oh, that's not fair_ , Lisbet thought, although she really couldn't blame him for trying to avoid the heat.

She saw a puckered scar near his shoulder blade where he had been stabbed by Sand People, the pinkish welt different than his many other faint white scars that must have been better treated. She wondered if it still hurt.

"Here," she said, extending the replacement fuse to him to force herself not to stare anymore.

"You have impeccable timing," he said as he took it and connected it between the power cell and the control panel. The whole system shuddered to life, and a satisfied dimple appeared under Ben's beard.

"Such a simple fix!" Lisbet exclaimed. "Why, the barkeep at the cantina could have helped when I asked hours ago, if he wasn't so bantha-brained  _lazy_."

"Well, I'm not lazy," Ben replied. "What else can I do?"

Lisbet passed a hand across her eyes, regretting the complaint instead of gratitude. "You've already done more than I can thank you for," she said. "The rest of the work will go much more quickly now that cool air is circulating."

"And it will go even more quickly with my help," he said. "At least let me do something until your brother returns."

"Were you, by chance, also a diplomat in a past life? You negotiate very convincingly," Lisbet said.

"Should I take that as an agreement to my terms?"

"If you can accept my countersuit, then we shall be in accord," she said, sobering. "I do not think Gareth should see you. I've told him very little about you, but he distrusts you all the same."

"I accept the terms," Ben said evenly. "Where should we start?"

"Perhaps you'll have better luck with the chairs than I," Lisbet said, turning to head back to the main auditorium. In her periphery, she saw Ben reach for his dark brown tunic as he followed her, and she couldn't decide if she was relieved or disappointed.

For all her nerves earlier about spending time with him, they spent a relaxed and industrious couple of hours working away. She had already set and decorated the tables that morning, but the stacks of chairs proved to be a challenge that took two people to manage. Lisbet couldn't reach high enough to lift the top few off, so Ben unstacked them while she arranged them at the appropriate places around tables.

That done, there were still plenty of odd tasks to do. Most of the time they didn't work closely enough to talk much, only coming together to finish one thing and begin another. Lisbet didn't mind; it was enough to share the space with him, always aware of him like he was a beacon light in her periphery.

The last task was to sweep the floors. Lisbet found two repulsorbrooms in the cleaning closet and handed one to Ben.

"Hopefully they work," she said, because otherwise they would have to move the chairs to sweep the old fashioned way.

He flipped the switch on the handle and the repulsorbroom slowly powered up with a low hum. "It's been a long time since I've used one of these."

"Surely your Temple had cleaning droids," Lisbet said, finding it hard to imagine him using one at all.

"It did," he replied as he began the tedious task of pushing all the tracked-in sand on the floor in the general direction of the opposite wall. She followed suit, noticing a faint glimmer of humour in his eyes. "You underestimate the benefit of manual labour as discipline for young initiates, however."

"And did you spend much time cleaning as an initiate?" She smiled innocently at the sidelong look he shot her.

"Well," he began, the humour spreading to his dimples, too, "perhaps not as much as my teachers thought. You also underestimate the similarity between a broomstick and a training saber."

Lisbet laughed aloud at the mental image of Ben as a boy, shirking his duties to practice with a broom of all things. She glanced over in time to catch him watching her with soft eyes and a smile.  _This will hurt later_ , she thought, looking away before she blushed,  _when he leaves and you want him back more than anything._

But for now, she maneuvered the repulsorbroom around some of the chairs to clean under a table, still smiling to herself. "Gareth and I used to help each other with our chores when we were young, so that we could play bandits sooner."

"You must have been close as children too, then," Ben commented. "Most people wouldn't help others with drudge work unless they cared."

"No, most wouldn't," Lisbet agreed slowly, wondering if it was an unintentional remark or if he realized that  _he_  was doing exactly that.

He answered her by stilling just the slightest measure as the implication of his words dawned on him. "You have a good brother," he said, resuming their task at a quicker pace than before.

"I know," Lisbet replied. Something told her that their comfortable camaraderie that afternoon had ended. They were almost done with the floor, and Ben would leave soon anyway.

They had been heading for the entrance the whole time, so once they got close Lisbet went over to open the big double doors. It was easiest to just sweep everything right outside.

The first sun had set by then, dropping the temperature to a comfortable warmth as the second sun cast long, lazy shadows in the sand. Ben pushed the last of the detritus out the door and set his broom against the wall before joining her in the doorway.

"Thank you again," she said. The early twilight cast glints of copper into his hair and beard. "For fixing the cooling unit, and everything else."

"It was no trouble at all," he said. "I hope the wedding goes well tomorrow. I can think of no one more capable to prepare for it than you."

"Still, it could have been quite a sweltering event without your intervention." She knew that she could only delay his departure for a moment more.

"Then perhaps we should not let our hard-earned cool air escape by leaving the doors open," he replied with an apologetic look.

She stepped back inside to grab his cloak from the hook where he had hung it earlier as soon as the stuffy air hit him. "Here," she said, extending it to him. "Safe travels back home."

"Thank you," he said, taking it but making no move to leave. He drew a breath to say something, thought better of it, and turned it into a polite smile. "Have a good evening."

"You too," she said as he turned away. His shadow stayed with her a pace longer than he did, but soon he turned a corner and disappeared from her sight.

Lisbet thumbed the control panel to close the doors behind her as she stepped back inside, surveying the space. It was beautiful – Oona had lent them pastel fabrics that made the room look open and crisp. All that remained was to put out fresh flowers when they were delivered in the morning.

But now, without Ben's steady presence, it felt hollow. Lisbet sat down at the nearest table, not quite sure what to do with herself. Surely Ben was headed back to the cantina to collect Rooh; she could hurry after him and invent another task to do.

 _That's ridiculous_ and  _selfish,_  she chastised herself.  _He needs to get home before dark. Or do you just want to patch him up again?_

She had been right earlier. This hurt.

* * *

"Are you alright, Lissy?"

Lisbet pulled herself back into the present moment at the sound of Solstice's voice. "I'm fine," she said, giving each of her palms one last massage before going back to trimming flowers. "I think I've been working too long at the looms lately. My fingers go numb sometimes."

"Do they?" Solstice's brows drew together in concern as she wrapped a ribbon around the base of a bouquet. "Mine never do. But then, you didn't grow up weaving like I did. Maybe you're still adjusting."

"Probably so," Lisbet nodded. The self-administered massage hadn't really helped, so she flexed her hands slowly, trying to bring feeling back.

"What time will Erys and her mother be here?"

"In an hour." Lisbet brushed a stray wisp of hair out of her face and surveyed their progress.

Weddings on Tatooine usually took place around noon so that everyone could return home before dark, which meant an early start to get everything done. Plus she had been up late the night before, worried that Gareth still hadn't returned from the farm as planned. Finally Myles had knocked on her door to tell her that they'd received a comm message that Gareth's speeder was broken and he would spend the night at Kairon's farm.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Solstice asked, eyeing her over a cluster of the strangely shaped funnel flowers native to Tatooine. "You look pale."

"I always look pale," Lisbet tried to laugh it off. In truth, she was so tired that she felt a little nauseous. "Despite the double suns here."

Of course, thinking about that inevitably led to Ben's sunblock – not that he was ever very far from her mind, anyway. She snipped a flower stem with perhaps a little more vehemence than necessary.

"Have you seen much of him lately?" Solstice said, uncannily following her mental trail.

"No," Lisbet lied. She had considered telling Solstice about Ben's help the afternoon before, but the thought of the inevitable inquisition made her stomach turn. Another day, when she wasn't so bone-tired, she would confess.

"Surely you've crossed paths in the marketplace at least," Solstice said. "I saw him awhile ago. Don't worry, I promise I only glared at him when his back was turned so he wouldn't see."

Here at least Lisbet could tell the truth. "I suppose I saw him about three weeks ago."

"And you didn't say hello?" Solstice's face was unreadable.

Lisbet jabbed another sprig into the bundle she was working on. "Is it a crime not to greet people?"

"Are you going to turn those floral shears on me if I say it's a crime of the heart?" For as trite as her words had been, Solstice didn't acknowledge it with a smile – if anything, she doubled-down with a raised brow and reproachful stare.

"I might," Lisbet retorted, waving them vaguely in her direction.

"You need to speak with him," Solstice replied firmly. "I'm sure whatever happened can be resolved if you just talk through it. Communicating can be hard, but it's so necessary. You two just haven't learned how to communicate with each other yet."

Lisbet struggled to keep the irritation off her face. Getting relationship advice from someone younger, whose relationship looked very different than hers, put her teeth on edge. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Well," Solstice said, dusting her hands off with an air of finality. "That's the last of the flowers, and it's time for me to go. I'll leave you to your sulking, unless you'd like company."

"I'm  _not–_ " Lisbet took a deep breath to collect herself. "I'm not sulking."

"Maybe not, darling," Solstice replied with a look that clearly said  _oh, yes you are_. Still, her voice was gentle as she continued. "I think you'd like to be alone all the same, and the wedding festivities will begin before you know it. Let this be my gift to you today: an hour to yourself."

"Kiss little Corr for me," Lisbet said, not quite ready to relinquish her bad mood but grateful for Solstice's understanding. "I'll see you at the ceremony?"

Solstice squeezed Lisbet's shoulder as she passed on her way to the door. "Of course. Now get some rest."

She was right, of course; Lisbet needed to get herself together before the wedding. It was going to be a long afternoon and this would be the last time she'd have a moment to breathe before the festivities began. She briefly considered curling back up in bed, but she knew it would be torturous to get up from something so comfortable later.

Instead, she went into the living area and stretched out on the couch, crushing down any traitorous thoughts of when Ben had slept there. It smelled like Gareth's crisply clean soap anyway, which made Lisbet think how he wouldn't live there anymore, and she was going to be very alone, and–

She squeezed her eyes shut and turned over.

 _Stop being selfish_ , she thought.  _Gareth is so happy. You're going to be fine here._

Lisbet had almost soothed herself into a drowse when she was yanked awake by the strangled almost-jingle of the door chime. Gareth had tried to fix it and only half succeeded, since it fizzled into an off-key yowl after the first note. He had managed to fix the view screen, but she already suspected who would be outside – Erys or Solstice knew to just knock.

Of  _course_  Jabba's debt collector had chosen today to gather their payment. Lisbet gave herself two beats to take a deep breath before getting up. Normally Gareth handled these transactions, and often the collectors came to Kairon's farm since he was likelier to be there during the day anyway. But Jabba probably knew about the wedding, and what better way to drive home his ownership of them than to appear on a happy day like this?

The door chime attempted to ring again, followed by the resounding thump of a fist on the door.

Lisbet growled under her breath as she went into the kitchen. Gareth had been very firm that she should never open the door to a collector without the payment in hand, but  _stars_  this one was impatient. They kept their small stash of money tucked the back of the conservator in a brown flimsi bag as if it was leftover food, so she carefully counted out the garishly stamped coins that made up Hutt currency. Another round of pounding on the door made her startle.

"I'm coming," she bit out, although not loud enough to actually be heard through the door. She could pretend that no one was home, but that would just mean they'd track down Gareth and possibly even disrupt the wedding later.

Closing her fist around the money, Lisbet skirted around the table and went to the door. She jammed a thumb onto the control pad and the entry swished open to reveal a human male, his fist still raised to hammer on the door. He was as slickly dressed as anyone on Tatooine could be, and he might have been handsome if not for the calculating severity in his dark eyes.

"Hope I didn't wake you, princess," he drawled. They had started calling her that once they realized she wasn't a boy like she'd pretended to be at Jabba's palace.

"Of course not, Joran," Lisbet said with a tight-lipped smile. There was a fine line between projecting deference without inviting familiarity. If she could have her way she would spit in their faces, which sounded especially appealing today. But any disrespect to Jabba's debt collectors was disrespect to Jabba – and they couldn't afford that. "Here's the payment, plus interest."

Joran took his time counting the money that she handed to him, her impatience swelling with every coin. Most of the time she could ignore the absurd injustice of becoming responsible for Warwick's debt simply because they were blood relatives – let alone that they had needed to come to Tatooine at all – but right now she just wanted the collector gone.

"Is that all?" she asked with an arched brow when it was clear he had finished.

He stared at her for a moment before his gaze flicked through the passageway between the houses. Lisbet could hear the resonance of a landspeeder engine approaching and realized that Erys and her mother must have just arrived.

"That's all for now," Joran replied, pocketing the money. "I'll be back in two weeks."

Lisbet bit back a cynical reply as he swung a leg over his swoop bike and fired up the engine. She didn't even bother saying goodbye; it was enough to wrap her arms around herself and watch him leave. He hadn't quite disappeared around the corner when Erys and her mother came through the passageway from the back of the house.

"Good morning," Lisbet said, summoning a smile.

"Good morning. Was that Joran Nalto?" Erys asked softly as she put a sympathetic hand on her arm.

"Yes," she replied.

Her immediate, reflexive instinct was to resent Erys' tone since the Farlance family had no debts to the Hutts, and it took some effort of will to cram the reaction back down. Lisbet wished she'd had time for a proper nap; she wished Gareth was here because he made everything better; she wished Ben – but no, she strangled that thought before it fully formed.

"Solstice and I finished trimming the flowers earlier," she said instead, ushering the two women inside.

The rest of the morning passed in something of a blur. They bundled the fresh flowers over to the community center to finish decorating, at which point Erys' sister, Thena, arrived. Lisbet was once again drafted for hair styling duty, and by the time she was done it was time to rush into the kitchen to coordinate the rest of the food preparation – and she hadn't even finalized that when Gareth appeared in the kitchen doorway, jittery and smiling and telling her that the ceremony should have started five minutes ago.

"Oh, Gare," she said, putting a hand to her head as she rushed toward him. "It's your wedding day and I've hardly seen you!"

"I know, Lis." He wrapped his arms around her in a giant hug like they were children. "Thank you for everything you've done. I'd have been lost without you."

Lisbet gave herself a second to soak in her brother's comforting presence, finding her equilibrium in his steadiness, before she squeezed her arms around his midsection once and stepped back. Looking up at him, at his sparkling eyes and hair neatly combed for once, inexplicably made her think of their parents who had died too soon, and their grandparents who had raised them. Lisbet didn't know what she believed about life after death, but she hoped that some small part of them lived in her to see their son so happy.

"What is it?" Gareth's brows furrowed a little at her expression.

"Nothing," she said, brushing away the wetness on her lashes. "Come on. Let's not keep everyone waiting."

"We already have," he teased as he linked her arm through his and they headed out of the kitchen and back to the main hall.

Lisbet wept during the entire ceremony and convinced herself that they were only happy tears by smiling through them. And most of them were; she had never seen her brother grin so much. But she still couldn't shake the quiet undercurrent of loss, even though it made her ashamed.

The ceremony gave way to a party as soon as the couple kissed, and for the next few hours Lisbet had no time for tears. The Farlances were well known and liked in Anchorhead and that meant a large crowd at the wedding, with all the singing and dancing and revelry that came with it – and all the  _food_. She'd thought the star-seventeen had been a massive undertaking for Tatooine's limited resources, but that paled in comparison to a wedding.

She didn't start out in the kitchen and certainly hadn't intended to end up there, but Erys' sister had been in charge of the food and turned out to be woefully unqualified. When almost an hour had passed with no sign of the luncheon appearing, Lisbet went to investigate. The kitchen was a scene of unparalleled chaos and Thena was in tears, and that had been that. Lisbet tied on an apron and got to work.

"I'm sorry, Lisbeth," Thena said through a hiccup.

"It's alright," Lisbet replied, privately forgiving the incorrect name. Thena had gotten it right earlier; it must be stress. "Go enjoy the party for a little while. I'll get all this in order."

"Oh, I can't," Thena said, looking very much like she could. "I can't leave you to clean up my mess."

"You're not," Lisbet said firmly. "I like having something to do. There's only so much socializing I can stomach, you know?"

"Sure," Thena replied slowly, although she clearly didn't understand.

It had taken a few more platitudes to mollify Thena's pricked conscience, but eventually Lisbet shooed her out the door. There were three other girls enlisted to help with the food, and they fell to work with visible relief that clear instructions were forthcoming.

Somehow it made Lisbet feel better to put her head down and work. The simple task of prepping food and sending out dishes as they were ready was welcomely simple, and none of the other girls seemed to want to talk which was fine by her. They got through the entire meal, put dessert in the oven, and started clean-up with hardly a word spoken between them.

Lisbet was just starting to scrape out the leftovers from one of the big stock-pots when she heard a familiar huff from the doorway.

"Lissy!" Solstice's voice sounded like the exact blend of accusatory and indignant that Oona favoured when she didn't like something. "What are you doing here?"

She turned to see her friend already popping an apron over her head. "If I didn't take over, the food was never going out."

"This isn't your responsibility," Solstice retorted. "You've already worked hard to make this wedding happen. Thena should be pulling her weight."

"She's young," Lisbet said. "She's never done this before."

"Then her mother should have taken over, not you."

Lisbet paused for a second to stretch her aching neck. "I don't mind. Someone has to do it, so it might as well be me."

"Get out," Solstice said, shooing her out of the way to take her place.

"What?"

"Lissy, this is your brother's wedding. You shouldn't remember it as working in the kitchen. You can cook any day, but this is special. And before you say,  _better me than them_ , shut up. You can be self-sacrificing all you want, but better  _me_  than  _you_. I'm taking over."

"Solstice –" She didn't know what to say.

"Accept that you've just been out-maneuvered," Solstice grinned triumphantly over her shoulder as she hefted a big pot from one counter to the next. "Now get out of here, we're working."

Lisbet slowly untied the apron from around her waist, still not committed to leaving. But when Solstice pointed a dirty mixing spoon at her threateningly, she knew she couldn't stay without a fight.

Resolving to repay her friend somehow later, Lisbet hung up her apron and left the kitchen. She could hear the strains of music coming from the main hall, a lively tune that reminded her of the many group dances at the star-seventeen over four months ago.

She lingered in the hallway for a moment, a little reluctant to go into the chaos and press of bodies that would make up the dancefloor. It had been such a long day already, and there would be still more to do once the festivities ended. Everything had to be broken down and put away; at least there would be more hands to help than when Lisbet had set up.

She chose to go outside instead, if only for a few minutes to get some fresh air. Or as refreshing as the midafternoon air on Tatooine could be – the heat hit her like a wall when she stepped outside. The sunlight dazzled her eyes for a moment, but then movement to her left made her turn to see a familiar figure in a long brown robe standing up from the bench alongside the community center wall.

"Ben," she said, startled to see him so soon after the day before. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," he said slowly. "Are you well? You look tired."

"It's been a long day." She wasn't offended by his comment; her headache had mercifully faded, but that didn't change how little rest she had gotten in the past thirty-six hours. And she knew he didn't mean it unkindly, but rather that he was concerned.

"I hope you will be able to rest soon, then." There was something off about Ben's demeanor, a strange feverish energy hovering just underneath the surface of his usual calm. He almost seemed distracted by it.

"I'm afraid not," Lisbet replied, wondering about his mood. "There's another wholesale shipment due to Mos Eisley soon and Oona is very worried we won't fill it in time, so Solstice and I will both be working tomorrow and every day until it's done."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Did you forget something on your errands yesterday? You've never come into town twice in a row."

"No," he said as he looked down for a moment. "But I found that I–" He returned his keen gaze to her, his eyes unreadable. "I found that I could not stay away."

"What?" A stab of heat and confusion bloomed in her ribcage and spread up the back of her neck.

Ben seemed to be reaching for words that wouldn't come – or he couldn't say them. He looked down again and a lock of his hair fell across his forehead as he did. She waited, a thousand thoughts careening through her head, and wished she could brush his hair out of his face.

"Forgive me," he said after a moment. "I find myself so surprised to be here that I gave no thought to what I would actually say."

Lisbet took a careful step closer, unsure if she was trying not to spook him or  _herself_. Something very much like hope had lodged in her windpipe and she struggled to catch it before it went to her head. "What did you mean, that you couldn't stay away?"

"I meant–" He pushed his hair back out of his eyes; it had grown long again, although not so shaggy as when they'd first met. "After yesterday, spending time with you, I–" His sentence stalled out again.

Lisbet had never really seen him  _nervous_  before, but now she guessed that this was what it looked like. She'd carried such a roiling mess of emotions all day that she wasn't sure how to react. But seeing him fumble for words and boyishly uncertain, she softened to him.

"This isn't going quite as well as I'd hoped," he admitted, meeting her eyes with the faintest dimpling of a wry smile, and Lisbet lost her stranglehold on hope and it soared up before she could catch it again.

" _What_  isn't going well?" she asked, heart in her throat, heart on her sleeve, heart beating a wild tattoo in her ribcage.

"Telling you that I –" He couldn't say it out loud.

She closed the distance between them with one step. He watched her, his eyes flickering once to her lips, but she didn't pause to second-guess herself. She laid a hand against his chest to steady herself and went up on tiptoes, pressing her lips against his in a soft, simple kiss.

 _What are you doing?_  The thought exploded into her mind at exactly the moment she withdrew.  _He hasn't actually said anything about changing his mind. You're making a fool of yourself._ All the blood simultaneously drained from her face and rushed to it as she faltered a pace backward from him, burning with mortification.

"I'm so sorry," she said, too embarrassed to meet his eyes as she skirted around him. Whatever awkwardness he had introduced to their relationship by kissing her all those weeks ago, she had just cemented it by the same action. There would be no more pretending that she could only be his friend after this. "I have to get back to the party."

"Lisbet, wait–"

He caught her wrist as she passed, drawing her back to him, and all at once her senses were full of him as he cradled her face and kissed her with a desperate hunger.

* * *

**redamancy** ,  _(n., English)_ , the act of loving someone who loves you; a love returned in full.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the musical inspiration for this chapter was all over the place, but the song that got the most loops was probably neon lights by pim stones, and then hunger by ross copperman for the end. :)


	17. volim te

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i'm so sorry this update took so long. my personal life got pretty busy, plus i just couldn't seem to shake a terrible bout of writer's block. ultimately this chapter isn't exactly where i wish it would be, but i think it's better to post something than nothing at all!
> 
> a quick recap since it's been so long: the last chapter ended with lisbet stepping out of her brother's wedding for a breath of fresh air, where she meets ben and they KISS

Ben kissed her like she might vanish from him. He slipped his arms around her waist, hesitant for the barest second before pulling her closer, his palms and each individual finger scorching on her ribcage even through the fabric of her dress. Lisbet steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder, the other going to twine into the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

Dimly, she faltered in uncertainty. Did this burning urgency mean that this was a last goodbye before he disappeared? Arching her body into his, she memorized him – the scratch of his beard, the way he smelled of clean soap and dust, his pulse hot under her palm. If this was a parting gift, she wanted to keep it always.

Sooner than she wanted, he drew back. Breathless, Lisbet took a second to gather herself, hesitant to look him in the eyes lest she see regret there.

"Ben," she whispered, heartbeat fluttering, still pressed against him with a hand in his hair. She finally dared to look up at him, but his eyes were closed, brows drawn together from an emotion she couldn't read.

A moment ago, he hadn't been able to speak the words aloud. She needed him to say them now.

" _Ben_ ," she said again, almost a plea this time.

His eyes were almost always blue, but now when he opened them they were deep and warm and sure. He tilted his head down to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, and Lisbet couldn't stop the tremble in her bones.

"I have wanted to do that for quite some time," he said.

Lisbet withdrew a measure to see him better, but she slipped her hands into his, unwilling to give up his touch despite the space between them now. "What changed?"

Some shadow of sorrow crossed Ben's face, although she didn't think it was directed at her. "I have lost everything that I loved," he said softly. "And perhaps I will lose you, too, but it will not be by my choice."

"So you'll stay with me?" The question didn't come out quite how Lisbet intended. "I mean, you'll– you won't–" She didn't know how to ask if he was choosing her instead of his Code, let alone if that choice was something he could live with. "No, I'm sorry, that's not fair of me to ask–" The words wouldn't come, and the more she fumbled for them the more foolish she felt.

"So I'll stay with you," he said so quietly that she almost didn't hear. "If you'll have me."

She nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak, and not quite able to suppress the smile that made her face ache.

He rewarded her with his dimples that she loved so much, and she let go of one of his hands to reach up and touch his cheek. The simple contact felt surprisingly intimate – perhaps just because she'd never had his tacit permission to do so before. He covered her hand with his own, interlacing their fingers as he tilted his head and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist, his eyes never leaving hers all the while.

Lisbet's heart might have cracked a rib in her chest right then, had the tension not been broken by a muffled cheer from inside the community center. She startled a bit at the sudden noise, pulling her hand back as she looked over her shoulder at the open doorway.

"I should go back to the wedding," she whispered as she turned back to him, half her mind screaming that she was a fool to leave Ben. She ruthlessly crushed the thought; he had said he would stay. "Gareth is all the family I have left."

"Of course," Ben said, but made no move to let go of her hand.

"I don't know when it will finish," she said, glancing down at his thumb that drew slow circles on her knuckles, as if that would hide the flush in her cheeks. Asking him to wait for her seemed impossibly vulnerable.

"Will you find me when it does?" he said.

"Yes," she replied immediately, grinning up at him.

She didn't technically have to go. She could stay here with Ben, and ask all her questions, and maybe kiss him again (and  _again_ ) – but there was another cheer from inside: she must be missing something important. There would be plenty of time with Ben, she reminded herself.

"Until then," she said, gathering the resolve to leave him.

"Until then," he echoed as he released her hands, fingers trailing down hers to prolong the contact a millisecond more.

Lisbet impulsively went up on tiptoes to kiss him one more time – which happened to be synonymous with Ben leaning down to do the same, and they bumped noses instead.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, touching her nose with one hand even though it didn't hurt that badly.

"I apologise," he said with a sheepish smile. "It would seem that I'm not very good at this."

She tried not to laugh, but it came out as something of a muffled snort anyway. "That's alright," she said, privately thinking,  _we'll just have to practice._

Maybe he had the same thought, because he tilted her head up  _just so_  with a gentle finger under her chin and leaned down to kiss her – a chaste one this time, a promise of more to come.

"Until later," he murmured against her lips, the low timber of his voice sending frissons of electricity to her fingertips and toes. And then he turned and swaggered – hand to the stars  _swaggered_  – away.

The party was in full swing when she stepped back inside the main hall. It was jarring to go from the breathless intimacy of her conversation with Ben to this, so Lisbet took a moment to gather herself. She spotted Solstice pulling Myles to his feet to dance; she must have gotten the kitchen under control fast. Erys was talking to someone across the room. Where was Gareth?

"Lis!" His voice cut through the music and revelry. She turned toward her brother in time for him to grab her hand on his way to the center of the room, which had become more or less the dance floor.

"Hello to you, too," Lisbet laughed, letting him guide her through the crowd.

"I've hardly seen you! Will you dance with me?" Gareth asked as he faced her and twirled her at the same time, his eyes sparkling and earnest.

"As long as you don't step on my feet!" Lisbet poked him in the ribs to make him laugh again. It was an empty threat, though – everything came easily to Gareth, including dancing.

The music changed to a lively, bubbling song as they found a space on the crowded dance floor. Gareth exaggerated a serious bow and held out a perfectly posed hand, to which she curtsied deeply and took it. It was a silly way to begin, since he led her into a light-footed folk dance.

The steps were probably the same as a thousand dances on a thousand other planets, but this style was unique to Hosnian Prime. Lisbet had not been too little to learn it from their father, standing on his toes as he swept her around their living quarters, before he died.

For a split second, she faltered on her feet at the memory. But one look at Gareth's honest face told her that the past hadn't occurred to him, or it didn't grieve him if it had. He'd simply fallen into the familiar steps on instinct, a subconscious blending of their history with their present. Lisbet twirled under his arm again, her long skirt catching in her legs, and decided to follow his lead.

The rest of the afternoon whirled by, and when it was time for the newlyweds to leave Lisbet was surprised by how quickly time had passed. The crowd cheered Gareth and Erys to their speeder and sent them on their way amid whoops and general merriment. Lisbet managed to tuck a basket of provender in the backseat before they left, alongside a bottle of pallie wine as a gift.

She was the last to watch their disappearing dust trail fade into the distance. She dreaded the hour or two of cleanup ahead of her. During the party, she hadn't allowed herself to dwell too specifically on Ben – except for the warm ache that his kisses had left in her chest – but he was so  _close_. Overseeing the tear-down process seemed like an overwhelming chore.

_Still_ , she told herself firmly as she headed back into the community center,  _the sooner you start, the sooner you'll finish._

Work was already underway when she stepped inside. And it didn't take long to figure out why; some of Gareth's coworkers from Kairon's farm had offered to stay behind for clean up, since they had the day off anyway. Solstice had collected all the helpers and shooed out any loiterers. 

"You're very productive," Lisbet said as she joined her friend.

"We'll have the chairs stacked and the tables puts away in no time." A satisfied smile crossed Solstice's face.

"I'll go start in the kitchens, then," Lisbet said. Everything seemed well in hand here in the main hall, but there was leftover food to package up and stacks of dishes to wash.

"Don't even dream of it," Solstice replied, grabbing her arm before she got far. "Once this is under control, I'm heading there next."

"Surely you don't mean to oversee  _everything_?" Despite herself, a little ember of hope ignited in Lisbet's chest.

Solstice leaned in, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial volume. "I like the power. You made a monster by teaching me how to command a crew at Tavrie's star-seventeen."

Lisbet couldn't help but laugh at the gleam in her eyes. "I'm sure there are worse monsters to create."

"Go home, Lissy," Solstice said with a friendly shove toward the door. "Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow morning at the shop!"

Any other time, Lisbet would have taken Solstice's advice and gone straight to bed. She was tired to the bone and her headache had returned as an exhausted thrum in her skull – but there was no way she was going home.

The first sun had just begun to skim the horizon as Lisbet hurried to the cantina. It was possible that he had waited for her somewhere else, but that seemed the likeliest place to start. She ducked inside, pausing just inside the doorway to let her eyes adjust to the lower light and scan the room.

But he wasn't there. The cantina was half-full of people who had just left the wedding, but Ben was nowhere to be found. Lisbet went around the bar to check the booths in the back that were more private, but an unfamiliar Rodian leered at her and the barkeep growled that if she wasn't buying, she couldn't stay.

Perplexed, she headed back out to the waning sunshine. Her house wasn't far, so after a moment's indecision she headed that way to check, remembering how he had once waited outside her door. But he wasn't there either, and Lisbet felt a sick little lurch of doubt in her stomach.  _He left. He regretted coming back at all, so he left to spare us both an awkward goodbye._

Her head still ached. It had been easy to forget in her excitement, but now she couldn't ignore it.  _Perhaps Ben waited for you somewhere else,_  she told herself firmly, massaging a few fingers against her temple where most of the tension seemed to be.

The weaving shop would be an odd choice, especially considering that Oona lived in the residence underneath it, but it was the only other place Lisbet could think of. The market was closed, and she shared no other significant landmarks with him. She had only made it a few steps in that direction before she pulled up short.

"Ben!" she said almost in a gasp of relief. He had just come around the corner, clearly headed for her house.

"Hello there." He dimpled faintly under his beard.

"I looked for you," she said, acutely aware of how it sounded like an accusation instead of the question she meant it to be. She didn't know what to do with her hands – or the rest of her, for that matter. Should she take his hand? Could she kiss him again? All the magic from before had evaporated, leaving uncertainty behind.

"So did I." He didn't seem to feel any of the uncertainty that she did. Every line of his body was relaxed, and warmth kindled in his eyes and his voice. Lisbet had often thought of him as  _golden_ , and here in the gloaming light of the setting suns he was especially so. The realization made the fist of anxiety in her chest unclench a measure.

"I waited in the cantina," he continued. "I knew when a crowd came that the wedding must have ended. Perhaps I was too impatient, but when I did not see you among them I returned to the community center to find you."

"We must have missed each other," Lisbet said. It would have been easy to do; there were multiple routes between the two buildings. She took a tentative step closer, reaching for his hand, and he slipped his fingers between hers.

"I thought I would help you with whatever work you still had to do," Ben said, his voice lower now, evoking the same spell over Lisbet as earlier when he kissed her and promised to stay. "But you had already left."

"Solstice sent me away," she explained.

"Speaking of Solstice," he said, cracking a grin, "In hindsight, perhaps I should have asked her about you more discreetly at the community center."

Lisbet couldn't help but laugh, because she could easily imagine Solstice's delighted curiosity at this turn of events. "It sounds like I'll be cross-examined in the morning, then."

"My apologies." He smiled at her, his eyes soft and pupils blown, like her laughter was the sweetest sound he'd heard in a long time. Lisbet struggled not to stare at his mouth.

"I think I'll survive," she whispered, and it was  _such_  a silly thing to say, and she didn't even care because Ben tilted his head down and pressed a kiss to her lips. She reached up to tentatively touch his jaw, then to twine her fingers into the hair at his nape so that he wouldn't withdraw too soon. Now that they had started kissing, she never wanted to stop.

But she was the one who had to pull back when she couldn't suppress a huge yawn. She turned her face away as she covered her mouth with both hands, mortified.

Ben quirked a brow at her. "Am I boring you?"

"Maybe a little," she teased with an innocent shrug, which made his dimples appear.

Smiling up at him, Lisbet paused. She could invite him inside, but everything had changed since the last time he had been in her house. Offering that again carried more implications this time, especially now that stars had begun to unfurl across the sky as evening set in.

"Shall we walk?" he asked as he offered her his arm like courtiers did on some systems.

"Yes," she replied, taking it with a smile.

They spent the next hour or two talking as they made their way around Anchorhead. Most of their conversation was about simple things; Lisbet told him more about the wedding, and Ben told her about the repairs he'd had to do on his home out in the desert. Sometimes they walked in silence, just enjoying each other's company. Two people had probably never spent a happier hour on Tatooine.

But eventually Lisbet couldn't deny how exhausted she was anymore. There were only so many ways of subtly suppressing a yawn, and her skull felt about ten kilos too heavy. She was just about to confess that she needed sleep when she realized that Ben had navigated them back to her front door.

"Are you a mind reader?" she asked, narrowing her eyes in mock suspicion.

"Hardly," Ben replied with a smile, although there was no way he could have missed her yawns. "You see, the barkeep worries if I don't return to the cantina by curfew."

"I hope he doesn't lecture you for being late," she laughed to cover her reluctance to let go of his arm as she took a step toward her door. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"There's something I must see to in the morning," Ben said. "I'll leave by first light."

Lisbet wondered what business he could have, but she could tell he didn't want to talk about it and she was too sleepy to even wish that he would tell her. She was only disappointed that he had to go.

"Will it keep you long?" she asked, choosing the words with an extra measure of care. She didn't want to become clingy just because she was tired.

He brushed a wisp of hair behind her ear, his touch featherlight as if he still didn't believe she was there. "It shouldn't."

"Goodnight, Ben," she whispered, resisting the urge to lean into his palm. They had always been terrible at partings; without a firm resolve, they could be saying goodbye until morning.

"Goodnight, Lisbet," he replied.

She'd already kissed him so many times today – would one more be greedy? Lisbet decided not to care, stepping back into the circle of his arms to kiss him once, and  _only_  once, or else they really would never stop.

"Goodnight," she said again, marveling that the way his eyelids fluttered a little was because of  _her_.

"Goodnight," he echoed.

She was so sleepy that she almost repeated it back to him, but luckily another yawn stopped her. Ben smiled at the obvious proof of her exhaustion and reached around her to press the door control himself. The panel chimed a query for her verification code, and when she turned to input it he pressed one last kiss to her temple.

"Sleep well," he murmured into her hair.

She looked back at him, but he had already turned and started walking away, his cloaked figure edged in silvery light from the first rising moon. Lisbet lingered a moment in her open doorway, watching him until he disappeared around a corner, before she went inside.

She fell asleep the moment that she dropped into bed, and her dreams that night were very, very sweet.

* * *

**volim te** ,  _(phr., Croatian)_ , I love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for reading. it means more to me than you know xx


	18. selcouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it seems like i am forever apologizing for late updates, so thank you all for your patience. much love to silveronthetree, Noor, Casperwolf, SnowDazed, and IndigoUmbrella for reviewing!
> 
> a quick recap since it's been a minute: the last chapter ended with ben and lisbet kissing goodnight (several times) after he said he was an idiot for not being with her.

The next morning, Lisbet rose and dressed early, hoping to catch Ben at the cantina before he left on his errand. But he was already gone when she passed by, and she told herself it was silly anyway.

Oona would be pleased that she was early, though; the shipment to Mos Eisley was due in three days, and the time off for Gareth's wedding had put them a little behind. Solstice was coming to help make up the difference, but even so it was going to be a long few days.

Resigning herself to the upcoming task, Lisbet headed for the weaving shop. It didn't take long for her mind to beeline back to Ben despite herself, though. He usually came into town every week or two — surely he'd return sooner than that? But they had exchanged no promises or even expectations the night before. It was entirely possible that she wouldn't see him for awhile.

She was almost to Oona's door when Solstice called her name, pulling her out of her thoughts. Lisbet turned to see her hurrying over, Corr strapped to her chest as usual. The delighted gleam in her eyes reminded Lisbet of what Ben said the night before, how Solstice had probably put together the pieces when he asked for her after the wedding.

"Good morning," Lisbet said, grasping for a prim calmness despite the smile that betrayed her.

"Is it? How good is it? How good  _was_  it?" Solstice wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Hush, you," Lisbet grinned. "It wasn't like that. We didn't even go inside my house. He kissed me goodnight on the doorstep, and that's all."

"Oh, sweet Lissy! At last!" Solstice grabbed her arm, beaming. "Do you think he'll move into town? Oh – Lissy! You won't move out into the Waste with him, will you?"

"Goodness," Lisbet laughed, "that's getting ahead of things a bit."

Solstice was undeterred. "Where is he now? I wish he was tucked away in your bed, waiting for you to finish work and return to his arms."

"You're still too far ahead of things," Lisbet retorted, reaching for the door control. "He had business to attend to, so he left town this morning. Which is fine, because  _we_  have business to attend to."

"Oh, Lissy, before we go in," Solstice exclaimed as her demeanor changed all at once from delighted into a grimace. "I should warn you."

"Oona found out already," Lisbet guessed with a sinking feeling in her gut.

Solstice nodded, but she was already slipping back into delighted. She found her aunt's infatuation with Ben – and subsequently her jealousy of Lisbet – absolutely  _hilarious_. "She came to my house last night for a late supper and she saw the two of you walking arm-in-arm on her way over."

"Well," Lisbet said, summoning a stoicism she didn't entirely feel, "perhaps she will be too busy with work to mention it."

"You're adorable," Solstice said fondly before swishing into the weaving shop.

Lisbet blew out an uncertain breath and followed her inside. It always took a second for her eyes to adjust to the lower lighting after being in the bright suns, but Solstice was already across the room, settling Corr into his little crib.

"Took the two of you long enough to get here this morning," Oona grumped even though they were actually earlier than usual. She wasn't seated at the tall loom that needed to be finished as soon as possible, but rather in an armchair with a hand loom in her lap and one leg propped up in front of her.

"Why, Oona, your ankle," Lisbet blurted out, noticing that it was wrapped with a coldpack under it.

"Auntie!" Solstice half exclaimed, half scolded as she and Lisbet rushed over to check more closely. "What in star's name happened?"

Oona shot them a scornful look down her nose. "It's nothing. I missed the last step coming down the stairs last night."

"Auntie! You mean you've been up and down those stairs since then? You could have twisted your other ankle too!" Solstice had knelt beside her and started to fuss over the wrapping.

"Contrary to what your tone suggests, I am fully capable of taking care of myself," Oona said with an eyeroll. "You'll be kind enough to notice that I wrapped it with no help from upstart nieces such as yourself."

"All the same, let us help you now that we're here," Lisbet said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. One never knew what would work best with Oona.

"Then make me some caff, girl," she snapped.

There was always a stash of caff and tea in the little kitchen area, so Lisbet headed over there and started the water heating. Fiddling with the kettle was a welcome distraction from Oona's sour mood.

"An injury so close to the shipment," Solstice clucked, still looking over Oona's ankle.

"The shipment still must be made," Oona said as she resumed weaving the fibers on the handloom in her lap. "I haven't built a reputation for punctuality to squander it on a silly ankle. Besides, Harloth Kurn is leaving in three days and who knows when he'll be back to deliver to my offworld customers."

" _Surely_  you're not planning to walk all about Mos Eisley on a healing sprain." Solstice was Oona's junior by several decades, but she fixed her aunt with a look of profound maternal disappointment. Lisbet bit back a smile at the disparity as she handed Oona a cup of freshly brewed caff.

"Hardly," Oona snorted as she took a sip. "The girl will have to go instead."

"What,  _me?_ " Lisbet couldn't help but gasp.

"Yes,  _you_ ," Oona replied in a tone that brooked no opposition, or even negotiation. "Don't look so moon-eyed, child. There are no trades to be brokered, only deliveries made and payment accepted. Surely you can handle that?"

Handmaidens didn't balk when given an errand. Lisbet didn't think Oona would fire her for refusing to go to Mos Eisley, but it would certainly inconvenience everyone to find someone else. Solstice couldn't go, not with Corr still so small. Who else? Lisbet would have to overcome her dislike of the capitol.

"Yes, Oona," she agreed, settling uneasily at a tall floor loom.

"Auntie always brings cousin Keyen and Joran along, anyway," Solstice said. She knew how much Lisbet had hated living in Mos Eisley for the first few weeks after arriving on Tatooine.

"Actually," Oona grumbled, "they commed me last night. Keyen already left for the academy, and Joran has taken work in Mos Espa. Fool boy just wants to gamble his credits away."

"Surely you don't mean I should go alone," Lisbet said.

"Stars no, child," Oona said. "Someone has to protect the merchandise from thieves and scoundrels. I'll comm Kairon. I'm sure he can spare your brother for a few days."

"There you go, Lissy," Solstice chimed in. "Wasn't Gareth a security officer before you came here? He's perfect."

It wasn't just that – Mos Eisley was certainly a dangerous, wicked place – but going there would take her away from Ben. At least it would be a quick trip; only two nights if she was lucky. Usually Oona only stayed longer if she needed to flirt with potential customers. Lisbet put her hands to the loom, trying to resign herself to the upcoming trip.

The morning passed mostly in silence. Oona's ankle made her grouchy and sharp, which even Solstice's effervescence couldn't overcome. Besides, there was enough work to to keep all three of them busy without the distraction of talk.

They even worked through lunch, although Solstice excused herself and Corr at noon to fetch their dinner from home, since she had forgotten to pack it that morning. Oona muttered something about a forgetful girl and waved her off. Lisbet quietly stuffed down a few bites of haroun bread before returning to the loom. It seemed like a good idea to keep her head down, lest Oona bite it off.

Still, the old woman shot her a few dark glances when she thought Lisbet wasn't looking. She had done this periodically throughout the morning, but Solstice's absence made it worse. Finally, Lisbet couldn't take it any longer.

"Oona–" she began, although she wasn't entirely sure what to say.

"I claimed him  _first_ ," Oona interrupted without looking up from her work. "Last year, in the marketplace when I introduced the two of you. I should have known then that you would swoop in and steal him from me."

"I'm sorry," Lisbet said, feeling the absurdity of an apology but compelled to offer it anyway.

Oona merely sniffed in reply, clearly not deigning to make any further comment in the face of Lisbet's unforgivable betrayal. Luckily, they were spared a longer awkward silence by Solstice breezing back in the door.

"Look who I found!" she exclaimed, flourishing at Ben as he came in after her. "As soon as he heard you were convalescing, Auntie, he agreed to come cheer you up."

His eyes had found Lisbet's the moment that he entered, and now they were brightened with humour. Returning his smile, she set down the loom shuttle and stood. She knew Oona's suspicious eyes were on her, but she couldn't bring herself to care when her heart was singing that Ben had come back  _today_  instead of waiting.

"I'll make some tea," she said as she moved back to the kitchenette in the corner. Her path took her right by Ben, and she laid a hand on his arm as she passed behind him, just to touch him for a moment. Solstice went to return Corr to his bassinet, throwing a knowing smirk at Lisbet on the way.

Oona, meanwhile, hadn't decided whether or not to be mollified by Ben's appearance. "What brought you into town today?" she asked testily.

"An errand," Ben replied, and Lisbet could feel him look at her again. He took a seat next to the old weaver though, radiating concern. "I was sorry to hear that you have injured your ankle. Will you be able to travel to Mos Eisley for your shipment?"

"No," Oona huffed. Normally she melted into coquetry around Ben, but her bad mood hadn't ebbed quite enough for that. "The girl will go instead."

Startled, Ben turned to Lisbet with a concerned crease forming between his brows. She flushed a little under his gaze, her hands awkward as she measured out the tea leaves. She wished they could have a conversation in private, instead of with stolen glances.

"Why, Auntie!" Solstice gasped, a little  _too_  theatrical to be believable. "It has just occurred to me, right now in this moment, that it seems unfair to ask Gareth to go to Mos Eisley when he has just been married so recently. What if Ben were to accompany Lissy instead?"

The suggestion caught Lisbet off guard, but it made sense. Ben was far more qualified as security than Solstice realized, and he certainly knew how to navigate Mos Eisley better than Lisbet did. But a going on a trip together so soon into – well, whatever was between them – was a lot to ask.

"Gareth wouldn't mind," Lisbet said quickly, too uncertain to look at Ben as she handed Oona another cup of the caff that had been leftover from the morning.

"But it's such an imposition for a newlywed," Solstice said with a pointed look that clearly said  _what are you doing, you idiot?_

"There's no need to ask him," Ben cut in. "I would be happy to go."

"Hmph," Oona said just as Solstice crowed, "Excellent!"

Lisbet found Ben's eyes, hoping he could read both the gratitude and the  _you don't have to_  in hers. He smiled in reply, and she thought it meant  _you're welcome._

The tea had finished steeping, so she stirred some sugar into hers and brought Ben a cup of it plain. His fingers brushed over hers as he accepted it, lingering too long for it to have been accidental. Lisbet returned to her loom just to hide her blushing smile.

"And just think, Auntie," Solstice added, radiating innocence from every pore, "sending Lissy and Ben will actually save you money, since they will only need one room."

Lisbet almost dropped the teacup in her hands.

"I don't run a brothel, child," Oona snapped, and Ben choked on his sip of tea.

"Two rooms will be just fine, thank you," Lisbet said all in a rush as she stood up and practically bolted for the door. "I'm just going to get some fresh air, if you'll excuse me."

She saw Ben stand to make his farewells, but she didn't wait for him. The suns glared brilliantly down when she stepped outside, blinding her so she almost ran into Rooh. The eopie shook her head with a snort at the sight of her, but then reached out inquisitive lips for a treat.

The door swished open again to let Ben follow her outside. One look at his barely suppressed smile and Lisbet groaned wordlessly, covering her face with her hands to hide her red cheeks  _and_  her laughter. His hands cupped her elbows, and she dared to peek at him through her fingers.

"I'm sorry," she said, grinning despite herself. "Solstice is determined to embarrass me."

He had looked at her like this the night before when she laughed, with a smile that didn't quite give him dimples but warmed his eyes and made her heartbeat skitter a bit.

"I should have suspected her of plotting some mischief," he said. "She practically pounced on me when we crossed paths in the marketplace. I mentioned my hope to commandeer your lunch break and she was already ushering me here."

"Is that why you left so early this morning?" Lisbet asked. His hands were still under her elbows, so she dropped her hands to his forearms, still secretly thrilled that physical touch was permissible.

"Did you look for me?" He smiled innocently, and she laughed at being caught.

But her mood sobered. "You don't really have to come to Mos Eisley with me, Ben. I'm afraid the three of us put you on the spot back there."

"Lisbet," Ben said, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, "even if you had a hundred bodyguards in Mos Eisley, I would invent business there just to be with you."

There were probably a thousand different ways she could have answered him, but Lisbet couldn't think of any of them. Instead she pressed her gratitude to his lips with a kiss, curving her body into his. She could feel his smile as she kissed him, and reached up to brush her thumb across the dimple in his cheek.

Then something soft and inquisitive began to lip at the back of Lisbet's neck, and she gasped out a giggle as she lurched downward and scrunched her shoulders up to defend herself. Ben caught her stumble with a surprised noise of his own, turning her away on reflex to put himself between her and the danger before either of them completely comprehended the culprit.

" _Rooh_ ," Ben said sternly. "There's no need to be jealous."

Lisbet sighed tragically and reached across him to rub the bridge of Rooh's snout. "It seems that all the unwed ladies of Anchorhead are vying for your affection."

"It's a terrible burden to bear," he said, and pushed Rooh away so that all of Lisbet's attention was on him when he kissed her again.

She rose onto tiptoes to reach him better, one hand on his upper arm and the other at the nape of his neck. His hair had gotten too long again; maybe she would have time to cut it before they left for Mos Eisley. But the reminder of duty was enough to pull Lisbet out of the moment.

"I have to get back to work," she whispered, lingering for one second more before dropping back to flat feet instead of tiptoes.

"I suppose my hopes for borrowing your lunch break were in vain?" Ben said with a rueful smile.

She grimaced apologetically. "I skipped lunch today. Oona can't work the foot pedal on the floor looms with a sprained ankle, and Solstice and I aren't as fast at them as she is. There's  _so_  much to get done before the shipment and I feel responsible because of how much time I took off for Gareth's wedding, and especially now that  _I_  have to make the deliveries I don't want to be late…" She trailed off, realizing belatedly that she was rambling. "I wouldn't object if you stopped me before I blathered on and on, you know."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he assured her, then captured her hands to press a quick kiss to her knuckles. "I hope your work goes well."

The absolute last thing that Lisbet wanted was for Ben to leave. A corner of her brain very convincingly argued that she could ditch the weaving shop and go live out in the Waste with him, but she squashed it down. He had released her hands anyway, turning to gather Rooh's reins.

"Safe travels," she said. "I'll see you in three days, for the shipment."

He dimpled back at her. "You'll see me before that."

Lisbet couldn't keep the giddy grin off her face, and she knew that if she tried to reply it would be impossibly stupid, so she settled for tucking a loose wisp of hair behind her ear and hoping that the suns' heat justified her pink cheeks.

Rooh groaned a good-natured protest when Ben tugged her reins to guide her away. For the first time that day, Lisbet took a good look at her and privately wondered if the eopie hadn't gotten…  _fat._  Ben must be feeding her very generously for her to gain weight despite all the walking she did. Now Rooh gently snuffed the back of Ben's head as he led her away, ruffling his hair with an exhale. Lisbet laughed at Ben's bemused shrug, and watched them disappear around the corner before heading back into the weaving shop to return to work.

* * *

**selcouth,**   _(adj., English)_ , unfamiliar, yet marvelous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those who like to know the music inspiration behind a chapter, this one was one foot by walk the moon. :)


	19. zweisamkeit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to AvatarSkywalker78 and IndigoUmbrella for their reviews, and love to all who are reading. :)
> 
> a brief recap: oona badly twisted her ankle, so lisbet must go to mos eisley to deliver the quarterly shipment of fabric, and ben has agreed to go too.

Lisbet scrubbed a hand across her eyes, fighting to wake up. The past few days had passed in a blur of work. A large new order had come in at the last moment, and Oona insisted on finishing it instead of deferring to the next visit. Between that and the extra time it took for Lisbet to weave on the floor looms while Oona's ankle healed, they barely saw the suns.

Last night they had worked well past midnight to finish, and Lisbet hadn't even packed for the trip to Mos Eisley yet. She hurried to do so now, stuffing a few essentials into one of the same bags that she had carried all the way from Coruscant when she and Gareth fled almost a year ago.

She couldn't be late; it had been agreed that Ben would meet her at the shop, and she wanted to arrive before him so that he didn't have to handle Oona alone. The old weaver still hadn't made peace with Lisbet and Ben's burgeoning relationship, although Lisbet had barely spent three minutes with him because they were so busy.

Her hands moved clumsily as she tucked the last few things into her bag, so she took a moment to stretch her fingers back with the opposite hand, trying to get some feeling back into them. She was sure her thin mattress had something to do with the numbness and ache in her bones every morning.

A familiar triple knock on her door announced Solstice's arrival. Lisbet went over and pressed her thumb to the control panel, and the door swished open to frame her smiling friend, bouncing at the knees to soothe a fussing Corr, who twisted in his wrap to give Lisbet one teary glance.

"Guess who woke up in the wrong side of the bed," Solstice announced cheerfully.

"What, Corr too?" Lisbet answered.

"Surely you can't be a bad mood on this day, of all days!" Solstice's eyes were reproachful as she handed her a neatly wrapped parcel. "I knew you would be too tired to make yourself breakfast this morning, so I've saved you the trouble."

"Thank you," Lisbet said, surprised by the gesture. "Consider my mood changed."

"Good." Solstice's face split into a delighted grin. She hadn't missed a beat with her soothing rhythm, and Corr had started to chew his fist instead of fussing. Lisbet wondered if some people innately knew how to cheer others up.

"We'd better go," she said, reaching behind her to pick up the bag she had packed. "I'll eat while we walk over."

The breakfast that Solstice brought was haroun bread, louded with pika fruit and topped with crushed podpoppers baked into the crust. Lisbet broke off bites to eat and Solstice chatted obligingly on the way to the weaving shop so that she could eat without answering much.

Once they got to the shop, they found Oona limping around as she packed the fabric into the crates she used for transport, and already grumpy because of her limited mobility. Lisbet rushed to grab the heavy crate from her, clenching her hands extra tight around the handles as her grip threatened to weaken.

" _Auntie_ ," Solstice clucked as she lay Corr down. He immediately wailed at the abandonment, and she sighed. "Silly baby. He's teething again and isn't happy unless he's held." She patiently began to switch him to a back-carry instead of the front as she usually did.

"You coddle him too much," Oona grumbled.

"Never," Solstice said, turning her head to kiss Corr's little hand over her shoulder. He had settled again, watching them with his head resting against her back.

Lisbet stacked another full crate by the door. "Shall I pull the speeder around so we can start loading up?"

"Better let that man do the heavy lifting," Oona said as she handed over the security fob to the speeder. It belonged to her, but since Gareth used theirs more and had taken it when he married Erys, Lisbet would use Oona's for the trip.

"Where is that man, anyway?" Solstice asked.

"He has a long way to travel," Lisbet shrugged for lack of a better explanation, and ducked out the back door to retrieve the speeder parked out back. Ben would have to pass through town to get to Oona's shop, so she didn't bother scanning the dusty horizon for him.

He had come back into town once in the three days since he agreed to accompany her to Mos Eisley, but there had only been time to make arrangements for the trip before Oona insisted she come back to work, and a few quick kisses after that. Lisbet knew it was immature, but wasn't it also natural to want to spend every minute with someone you love, especially in the first flush of being together?

She maneuvered the speeder carefully out of the shed and around the building. She half expected Ben to appear by the time she parked it up next to the front door, but he was nowhere to be seen, so she headed back inside. Solstice had packed another crate of fabric, and was mid-rebuke to Oona for putting too much weight on her still healing ankle.

After a few minutes, they decided to just start loading up instead of waiting for Ben to help. Oona grumbled at him for being late, and Solstice and Lisbet shared a privately amused look, wondering if the old weaver's affections had turned. Solstice continued to pack the crates and stack them by the door, and Lisbet carried them outside to stow in the storage space behind the seats.

By the last crate, her back and shoulders ached and her wrists felt numb. The crates weren't very big, but they would surprisingly heavy. Lisbet flexed her hands again, frowning down at them. Far too much weaving the last few days, she decided. It was a good thing she would have a break from the repetitive work.

She turned at the sound of Rooh's familiar snort, her face splitting with a grin and her numb hands forgotten. "Good morning," she said to Ben, who returned her smile.

"Good morning," he said as he bent to kiss her cheek in greeting.

"You're later than we thought you would be," she said, not quite willing to admit that she had worried about Sand People. "Is everything alright?"

"Well, there seems to be something wrong with Rooh," he replied, his face clouding over with concern.

"What do you mean?" Lisbet asked with a matching expression as she reached past him to touch Rooh's neck. Leaning into her hand, the eopie looked a little tired but otherwise normal.

"She was slow to rise this morning," he explained, rubbing the other side of Rooh's neck. She blinked slowly, accepting all the attention with languid contentment. "And she seemed short of breath as soon as we left. I did not ride her long, but by the time I decided she was unwell, it would have taken as long to return as it would to come here."

"I'll get Solstice," Lisbet decided. "Her father used to breed eopies, and she helped with them before she married Myles." Besides, she had agreed to stable Rooh so that Ben wouldn't have to pay the owner of the cantina for stars-knew what kind of care.

Solstice's brows furrowed with concerned interest when Lisbet popped back into the shop and told her about Rooh; meanwhile, Oona frowned at being ignored in favour of an eopie, but offered no complaint as the two younger women stepped back outside.

"Good morning, Ben. How is the patient?" Solstice asked, going over to run a hand along Rooh's flank, her dark eyes assessing.

"Good morning," Ben echoed before repeating his description of Rooh's ails. Lisbet offered her knuckles to the eopie's sniffing nose, wishing she had a treat instead.

"Silly man," Solstice clucked after a moment's examination. "Your eopie is _pregnant_."

"Surely not," Ben said, looking stricken. Lisbet rubbed her mouth to catch a smile before it turned into a giggle at how grey he turned.

"Surely so," Solstice nodded. "It looks like she'll give birth in a day or two. Why, it'll be fun to deliver a little calf again!"

"But –" He was struggling for words and composure. "But I made her walk all this way while she was in labour?"

Solstice waved a hand, making a dismissive noise. "Only the early stages, and eopies couldn't give a womp's whisker about that. They're hardy creatures."

"I should have noticed something," he said faintly.

"Well, it seems congratulations are in order," Lisbet chimed in as she reached for his arm in exaggerated felicitations – and maybe as an excuse to get closer. "You're going to be a grandfather!"

His dumbfounded face completely undid Lisbet's hold on her humour, and she and Solstice burst into laughter. He shot her a wounded look tinged with the slightest glimmer of amusement, but he shook his head and turned his attention to Rooh.

"Poor old girl," he said, running a hand down her long neck.

"She's going to be fine," Solstice said reassuringly as she took Rooh's reins from him. "And when you get back from Mos Eisley, you'll have a little eopling to name! Maybe Lissy can help." Throwing a cheeky smile and a wave over her shoulder, she led Rooh away.

"I've never named a baby before," Ben said with a thoughtfully raised brow.

"You have a few days to think about it," Lisbet said, trying to keep her voice light. The reality had hit her – they were going away together. This would be the most time they had spent in each other's company, even more than when he had been injured overnight at her house. It was exactly what she had been looking forward to, but she was nervous, too.

"True," he replied, smiling at last. It still made something in her stomach flutter, and she wondered if it always would.

"We'd better not keep Oona waiting," she said. He closed his eyes for a brief second, steeling himself, and Lisbet laughed as she reached for his arm. "Don't worry, you've arrived late enough that you missed all the preparations. We just have to pay our respects before leaving."

Her hands were in the crook of his elbow, and Ben covered them with his own, but he made no move to go inside and face Oona. "Perhaps Rooh's infirmity was a favour to me after all. I just don't understand how it happened in the first place." He frowned.

"Well, when one eopie loves another very much," Lisbet began in a very serious voice, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction without breaking character.

He shot her a withering look that could have frozen both of Tatooine's suns – except he ruined it by dimpling, and she laughed again.

"Who knows what sort of establishment that cantina stable is," she said. "I'm loathe to malign Rooh's upstanding character, but it would seem that she's a bit of a lady of the night…"

"Don't," Ben groaned.

"Come on," Lisbet said, taking only a little pity on him, since she tugged him toward the door and Oona's barely concealed disapproval beyond.

Ten minutes later, they had said their farewells, collected the information for the guest house, and escaped back out the door. Oona had reiterated that they had two rooms booked, casting a suspicious glance at Ben over Lisbet's shoulder as she did. Lisbet couldn't seem to stop agreeing and confirming it, even though she knew that frantically insisting they meant to use both rooms made it look like they _wouldn't_ , and finally Ben had touched her arm and suggested they leave before the suns got much higher in the sky.

"Thank you," she sighed as they returned to the speeder outside. "It was easier when I was a handmaiden and not expected to talk much."

Ben paused, letting her decide who drove. She climbed in the passenger seat, since she wanted to rest before the hustle and bustle of doing business later. He slipped in next to her and the controls hummed to life under his hands.

"Was your employer very strict?" he asked, glancing over everything to familiarize himself. The speeder was open-top for around town, but it had a retractable cover to seal out the dust and some engine noise on long trips at higher speed. As it closed around them, he guided the speeder toward the open desert.

"In private I think her Ladyship considered us to be her friends," Lisbet replied. "But publicly there was an expectation of deference. I was the most junior by a few years, anyway. Most of the others were closer to their forties."

As Anchorhead began to dwindle behind them, a strange yet welcome relaxation stole over Lisbet. Whatever lay ahead in Mos Eisley was still an hour or two away, and a change of pace from normal life was exciting. She'd had the same routine almost every day since coming to Anchorhead over ten months ago.

"How often do you go to Mos Eisley?" she asked. It must take Ben over half a day on foot without the benefit of a speeder.

"Not often," he replied. "Perhaps once a month, to gather news."

"Hmm," she hummed in reply, content with the comfortable silence that fell between them. Normally she wanted to talk, to learn everything about him that he would reveal, but for now just being in his company was enough. She rested her head against the window, gazing out at the desert flowing by. Ben's piloting was so steady that the motion of the speeder didn't jostle her, and after a few minutes, she drifted off to sleep.

Some time later, she woke to the gentle pressure of Ben's hand on her forearm.

"I'm sorry," she said, scrubbing a hand across her face to clear the sleep away. She could only hope that she hadn't drooled or made a fool of herself in her sleep. "I slept so little last night, I must still have been tired."

"It's quite alright," he replied. "But I thought you would prefer to have a few moments to prepare instead of waking up in the city proper."

They were still a klick or so out from the fringes of Mos Eisley. Compared to Coruscant, it was barely a fleck of dust, but after the small town of Anchorhead it seemed like an imposing sprawl on the horizon.

"Do you know where the guesthouse is?" she asked. Though her nap had done some good, any calmness had evaporated at the sight of the city she hated. Tension crawled up her neck despite her attempt to crush it down.

"Yes," Ben said, glancing over at her briefly before double-taking for a longer look. "Are you alright?"

"I'm just nervous," Lisbet said as she schooled her features to something less anxious. "I could have done this a thousand times over on Coruscant, but the people here are so – they're very…" She searched for the word.

"Uncivilized?" Ben suggested wryly.

"To say the least," she agreed, deflating with relief that he understood. "Oona kept reminding me that every payment must be triple-checked, and to make sure nothing is stolen, and that there are pickpockets and murderers and worse on every street corner, and– I'm just nervous."

"I'll be with you," he said, his voice quiet and steady. "You won't have to do any of it alone."

She would have reached for his hand in gratitude, but he was piloting and she didn't want to distract him now that they were within the city limits and there were pedestrians in the streets.

"I'm glad," she said instead. "I'm glad that you came with me."

He smiled and took her hand, and she realized how ridiculous she had been to think that a Jedi couldn't pilot one-handed. And he'd said it himself – he would stay with her. The promise of having someone to count on made her heart swell so much that her eyes stung.

But they were pulling into the underground hangar for the guesthouse that Oona had booked, and it was time to get to work. Lisbet blinked away her tears and squeezed Ben's hand. They had a long day ahead of them.

* * *

**zweisamkeit,**   _(n., German)_ , the togetherness of two people; a feeling of closeness or affection of being with someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a bit short, but it was either that or let it become very, very long and possibly take forever to update. i hope it's not too awkward of a place to cut off! for those who like to know the songs i listen to while writing, this one was un nouveau soliel by m83. :)


	20. obdormition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: much, much love to SomeOtherPlace, IndigoUmbrella, SnowDazed, and Casperwolf for reviewing, and thanks to all who are reading. i love hearing from y'all!
> 
> a brief recap: due to oona's minor injury, lisbet and ben are doing the quarterly fabric delivery to mos eisley.

Lisbet pressed her hands to her hot cheeks, willing herself not to cry in the middle of the street. Mos Eisley was chokingly dusty and crowded, and the last thing she needed was an obvious show of weakness like tears to draw attention.

She saw the door of the shop swish open and Ben stepped through. He nodded a brief goodbye to the owner before heading back toward her and the speeder. Lisbet sucked in a breath, relief at the sight of him threatening to make her eyes well again.

 _Stop being such a child,_  she scolded herself.

They had spent the day criss-crossing Mos Eisley, and even though it was almost second sunset they hadn't delivered nearly as much as planned. It was mostly her fault; she'd bungled the directions so they accidentally back-tracked more often than making a logical route from one site to the next.

At this stop, the shopkeeper had been very upset at the delay when he could have already been three drinks deep at the cantina. He snarled back at Lisbet's apology and called her a few choice names, at which point Ben quietly took the datapad with the delivery information from her hands, and asked her to double-check the shipping manifest in the speeder. They didn't have a shipping manifest – but Lisbet realized he had seen her red face and given her an exit before she burst into tears.

"It's getting dark," Ben said now as he approached. "Are you hungry? Perhaps we should have some dinner."

They hadn't taken the time to sit down for lunch, choosing instead to pick up dubiously skewered food from a street vendor. She had only nibbled the edges before offering the rest to Ben, who hadn't seemed to mind the mystery meat. Lisbet's stomach rumbled at the thought of food, but she couldn't shake her uneasiness.

"I wish we could manage one or two more deliveries," she said as they got back into the speeder.

"We'll make up the lost ground tomorrow," Ben said, the controls humming to life under his hands.

They hadn't used the wind screen since getting into town, since it wasn't really necessary at the low city speed limits, but he toggled the switch to close it now. The noise of the street faded to a muted grumble as the screen sealed shut around them.

"There's little point in trying now," he continued. "The only businesses open after dark are cantinas and worse."

"I think some of those worse are on the delivery list," Lisbet grimaced.

"All the better to wait until morning, then," he replied, and when he put it that way she couldn't disagree.

Now that dusk had fallen, the foot traffic increased as everyone left whatever dark hole they worked in to spend the evening at the cantina of their choice. Ben had to drive slowly back to their guesthouse, which was at least a klick across town. A Gamorrean, already tipsy, slammed his meaty fist on the front bumper instead of getting out of the lane as they inched past. Lisbet jumped at the noise, glad that Ben had enclosed the cockpit.

"I hated living here in Mos Eisley," she blurted out, too wound up to  _not_  talk. "I didn't want to come back. I think that's why I've been so high-strung today. I'm sorry."

She tried to read Ben's expression, worried that he would be annoyed by the hundredth apology that day for the same thing. But his brows were furrowed with concern, and even though he was looking ahead to pilot the speeder, she could tell he was listening.

"You worked for the Hutts when you first arrived, didn't you?" he asked. "You pretended to be a boy."

"Yes," Lisbet replied. "Gareth was directed to the Palace almost as soon as we landed, while I arranged for lodgings in the city. He saw the dancing girls, and he worried – well, we threw away my dresses and I wore his clothes cuffed up. We didn't know what else to do. It's lucky I'm not very tall."

"Jabba doesn't employ many humans," Ben said.

"Gareth has a silver tongue when he needs to," she explained. "He suggested we had connections back on Coruscant that would disapprove of any mistreatment while somehow still groveling enough to not get killed outright. I wasn't even with him then. I tried to stay out of sight as much as I could. It was pure chance that I ran into Oona one day."

A glimmer of humour flashed across Ben's face despite the gridlock of speeders they were stuck in while trying to turn. "She makes for an unlikely saviour."

"She took one look at me and said, 'What are you wearing, girl?' with a scowl like my clothing personally offended her," Lisbet said. She could laugh at the memory now. "I was horrified at being discovered. She barked out a few questions, looked at my hands, and took off my cap to check if I had sand nits in my hair. It was humiliating, but I trusted her somehow. I knew she wouldn't bother if she wasn't going to help."

"I'm glad that she did," Ben said with a smile. The guesthouse was finally within view, and he pulled the speeder into the hangar bay. The light changed as they went underground, casting his profile into chiaroscuro for a moment that made Lisbet's breath catch. She had always considered Ben handsome, but love made him even more so.

"So am I," she said quickly as she realized she been staring at him a beat too long.

The hangar was nearly full this time of day, and he had to pull into a spot so tight that there wasn't room to step out on the sides. Ben climbed over the back of the speeder with cat-footed grace, dexterously avoiding the still-hot turbines at either corner.

"May I assist you?" he asked as he offered her a hand with very formal posture.

Lisbet didn't think she needed the help, but she accepted it anyway. Her steps were not quite so sure as his had been as she picked her way over the backseat and across the bumper. By the time her feet were on the dusty duracrete next to him, she was glad of his hand after all. The heat and the stress of the day must have made her lightheaded. She caught the sleeve of his tunic with her fingertips to steady herself for a moment.

He put a hand under her elbow, his eyes questioning. The dim light of the hangar had turned them to something between blue and green. Looking at him, Lisbet realized she hadn't kissed him at all that day. She went up on tiptoes to do just that, and his hand that had been on her elbow went to her waist, his thumb almost tickling her ribcage.

"Hello," she said, finally relaxing a measure. She'd been so overwhelmed with doing business that she'd hardly given herself time to think about the man who had patiently helped her with it. Though they'd spent the day together, she felt like she hadn't really seen him.

"Hello there," he replied softly, but just then a raucous party of Rodians pulled into the hangar, their ill-kept speeder making a horrible choking sound. It broke the mood, and Ben turned back to Oona's speeder to retrieve the three remaining crates of fabric that they hadn't delivered yet that day.

Lisbet reached for the last as he pulled it out of the backseat before he could stack it on the others and lift all of them. He paused, arching a brow, and she gave him a look.

"You're not a pack mule. I can carry one," she said, gesturing for him to give it to her. After a split second's hesitation he did, offering it to her in such a way that she could have an easy grasp on the handles. But as he released the weight to her, all the strength dropped out of Lisbet's hands as if they'd been cut off. The crate slipped through her nerveless fingers and thunked to the ground between them.

"Lisbet?" Ben said, reaching for her with concern in his eyes again, brighter this time.

Her hands didn't hurt, but she couldn't feel them, either – not even the pressure of Ben's grasp on one of them. She flexed the other, her fingers responding with a crackle of discomfort up her wrist all the way to her elbow.

"I'm fine," she said quickly. "I just didn't get a good grip. Let's go."

Without giving him time to question her further, she reached down to pick up the crate again, this time locking her fists around each handle with an iron hold. It wasn't very big, just surprisingly heavy with the tightly packed fabric inside.

They had gone up to their rooms when they first arrived that morning, so they already knew the way and had entry codes. Ben's was barely bigger than the two narrow cots it held, but Lisbet's was more comfortably sized, with a small sitting area and hot plate opposite the bed. It was nice to have the extra space, since they had already offloaded the crates scheduled for delivery the next day onto the shabby couch. They put the other three there, too.

"Where should we eat?" Lisbet asked, hoping the question would distract Ben from the way she massaged one palm with her thumb now that more feeling had returned to her hands.

"There's a cantina across the street," he replied. "Perhaps we should stay close for the evening."

"That sounds nice," she agreed.

So far she had studiously ignored their sleeping quarters, but the longer he stood next to her bed, the more she felt like an awkward schoolgirl about it. Stars forbid she start rambling like she had that morning with Oona, so she tucked a hand into the crook of his arm and headed to the door.

"Let's try to get there before it gets too crowded," she said to explain her haste.

The cantina was dimly lit and hazy with smoke when they entered. It was early enough for the crowd to be mostly quiet, but it still took some searching to find an empty booth. Lisbet sat down to reserve it while Ben went over to the bar to order something to eat.

Once his back was turned, she flexed all ten fingers at once. The tips were still numb, but the crackling pain had gone away. She pinched the end of her pinky between her nails, trying to coax  _some_  sensation out of it, when someone put a hand on her shoulder and murmured into her ear, "Fancy seeing you in town, princess."

Lisbet jerked away from the hot breath on her neck. The speaker took a leisurely step around her to lean against the table, but she had already recognized his voice. It was Joran Nalto, one of Jabba's debt collectors.

"I'm here on business." She rubbed away the memory of his breath on her skin, trying to make it look like an itch.

"That old witch finally die so you can take over the business?" Joran asked. His expression never seemed to change from one of cold calculation that almost verged on boredom. Lisbet wondered if he had always chosen to be cruel, or if there simply hadn't been another way to survive in Mos Eisley.

"Oona's not a witch," she replied, biting back a sharper retort.

"Don't much care why you're here, frankly," he said with a dismissive shrug. "Just that it saves me a trip to Anchorhead."

It took a moment for Lisbet to understand. "We paid last week. You can't demand more."

" _Can't?_ "

The word cut a sliver of fear into Lisbet's chest. Joran leaned forward to tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear, trailing his forefinger along her throat and under her chin so that she couldn't look away without flinching backward. She locked her jaw, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

"Princess," he said, his voice low, "I don't think you appreciate how good you've had it. Most collectors take a skim off each payment. Sometimes they don't even tell the debtor, just let the boss think the payments are light. You want that?"

Lisbet's vision had gone grey around the edges as her heart rate climbed painfully, but she refused to look for Ben. She clutched a fistful of her tunic under the table to steady her shaking hands, and bit out a simple reply. "No."

"Good." He chucked her under her chin as if she was a little girl, giving her an expectant look.

"I don't have any money," she said. It was true; Ben carried all the payments that were owed to Oona for the deliveries. "Do you think Oona would be stupid enough to send me here with more than a few wupiupi? Everything's on credit. You'll have to come to Anchorhead after all."

His expression still didn't waver except for a tightening around his mouth that might have been a smile, or perhaps just a sneer. "Then I'll see you there very soon, princess."

The breath Lisbet hadn't known she was holding rushed out of her once Joran Nalto pushed his weight off the table and walked away. She tried to scrub off his touch from her throat, but it just felt like the contamination spread to her hands, too. Her blood was roaring in her ears, and now that the moment had passed the room tilted a little with nausea.

Taking a steadying breath in through her mouth and out her nose, she looked around. She hadn't even realized that because the booth was tucked in a corner out of view from the bar, Ben couldn't have seen anybody join her. Perhaps that was why Joran had waited until then to approach. Had he followed them in on a whim? Or had he been watching them all day?

She pushed the thought down – there wasn't anything she could do about it now. Besides, Ben had reappeared around the corner with two glasses in his hands. He set them down on the table as he took a seat across from her.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, that familiar crease between his eyebrows appearing. It always made her want to brush it away with her thumb.

"I'm just ready to go home," she said with a rush of longing so fierce it made her ribs ache, and realized she meant her little place in Anchorhead – not Coruscant, not Hosnian Prime. For better or worse, it had become her sanctuary, perhaps by virtue of housing hopes for the future instead of memories of the past.

She reached for a glass of water and took a tentative sip. It tasted mostly clean: a luxury by Mos Eisley standards. It wasn't that she was ashamed to tell Ben about Joran's threat. She just didn't want to talk about it at all. He had let it drop anyway, his eyes only half on her while he scanned the room, checking the entrances and gauging the crowd.

Their dinner was delivered by a busboy who didn't even stop walking to thunk their dishes on the table. It was some kind of stew, with a chunk of tough haroun bread that, despite already being dipped on one side of each bowl, did not seem to be softened by the broth at all. Two spoons were shoved in Ben's and none in Lisbet's, so he passed one to her.

"There wasn't much on offer," he ruefully explained as she took it and poked experimentally at one of the brothy blobs.

"It can't be worse than some of what I made when I was first learning," she said, scooping up a spoonful with more bravado than she actually felt. After a split second's hesitation, she popped it into her mouth.

It somehow tasted both burnt and soured at the same time. Despite herself, Lisbet's body shuddered in disgust as she fought to keep her face neutral. Ben had taken a bite just after her, and he winced.

"That's…" he began, searching for an applicable word.

"Terrible?" Lisbet suggested. He nodded as he took a sip of water to wash the taste down.

Something about the look of resigned disgust on his face tickled Lisbet, and what began as a giggle very quickly devolved into the kind of punch-drunk laugh that only got funnier the more she tried to suppress it.

"I'm sorry," she squeaked, covering her entire face and heaving with laughter that had gone almost noiseless.

Ben clearly was at a loss about what had set her off, but he chuckled at how far gone she was anyway. She wiped her eyes, holding the afterglow of a good belly laugh in her ribs.

"I'm sorry," she said again now that the giggles had mostly dissipated. "No, don't–" She reached out to stop him from taking another defeated bite. "There's a hot plate in my room. Let's find a bodega and get some takeaway instead of this slop."

They drained their water and headed for the door, and Lisbet felt a weight lift off her chest just by stepping outside. She hadn't seen where Joran Nalto went after he accosted her, but he most likely had stayed in the cantina, and now he couldn't watch her from a murky corner.

They were in luck: there was a little corner shop a few doors down from the cantina. It wasn't much more than an awning over densely packed shelves. Lisbet didn't trust the assortment of skewered meats by the clerk's window, so she looked for the least unappetizing packaged food and threw a couple of mostly unbruised zucca fruit in for good measure. Ben picked up two bottles of water, and they paid for the lot from the petty cash Oona had provided.

Back up in Lisbet's room, they used the hot plate to warm up their cobbled-together meal and raided the caff tray for utensils. There was no knife for the zucca, and it was Ben's turn to laugh at Lisbet's futile attempt to saw into it with a spoon.

"Here," he said, taking the fruit and showing her the seam where it was easiest to break the peel with his fingernail.

"You certainly are handy to have about in a crisis," Lisbet teased, although she was genuinely impressed with the trick.

There wasn't a table for their food and hardly room for one anyway, so they stacked the fabric crates against the foot of the bed and used that instead. The couch was close enough that they could sit at it comfortably.

It certainly wasn't the healthiest meal that Lisbet had ever eaten, or the most filling, but Ben's easy company made it wonderful. They talked as they ate, wondering if Rooh had delivered her calf and skimming through potential names.

"I never had a pet as a child," Lisbet said, "but I  _did_ have a stuffed animal called Little Neda. She was a Lothcat and she went everywhere with me until I was ten."

"How did she come by her name?" he asked. They had also been discussing if there was any intrinsic value in a name's meaning or history. Lisbet argued that there was, but Ben wasn't convinced.

She gathered their makeshift dinner plates and stood. "I think it was just on the packaging that she came in," she admitted, and shot him a face when he dimpled and raised a teasing brow at her.

Knowing that she'd lost, she started tidying up the trash from their dinner preparations. Ben stood to help her, but she pushed him back onto the couch by putting Oona's datapad into his hands. "Here. This is the list of deliveries we still have to make."

He understood immediately, and pulled up a map of Mos Eisley in another screen to begin cross referencing the locations for the next day. Lisbet finished clearing up, and investigated the caff tray again. The hotel only provided a very cheap tin of caff grounds, but all Lisbet needed was hot water. She clicked on the kettle and went to her bag, producing two sachets of tea a moment later.

"You brought your own?" Ben asked, somehow both incredulous and completely unsurprised.

"Just in case," she said as she dropped a teabag into each mug and glanced around for sugar. Of course there wasn't any, so she went back to her bag for the little container she had packed. Leaving his unsweetened, she poured the boiling water and brought the two steaming mugs back to the couch.

When they had been eating, they had sat at either end of the couch, leaning against the arms so that they could face each other. Now Lisbet curled up right next to Ben, tucking her feet under her and leaning against his shoulder so that she could see the datapad too. She could sense him tilt his head a little, almost holding his breath as he considered her closeness, before he shifted to make her more comfortable.

The list of remaining deliveries seemed impossibility long. Some of them were to hotels or brothels, but more than half were to various traders that docked in the hundreds of hangar bays scattered across the city. Ben was organizing them by location to streamline the process tomorrow.

It wasn't really a two-person job, but Lisbet hadn't intended to foist the responsibility completely on him. She settled for being a second set of eyes, pointing out the few things that he missed. Mostly she just relaxed into his presence – the way his body moved slightly with each breath, his easy concentration as he problem-solved.

At first Ben asked her questions while he worked through the list, but he must have noticed how her limbs got heavier and her answers slower. Now that her belly was full and it had finally clicked that she was  _safe_ , a powerful exhaustion tugged at Lisbet like an undertow in the ocean. She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, she was being lifted – cradled, really – from the couch.

For a glimmering instant, Lisbet had a sense of being very young again, pretending to be asleep so that her father would carry her upstairs in his safe arms. But all these aches belonged to an older body, and the arms she was in were Ben's.

 _What time is it?_  she tried to ask, but all the consonants took too much effort to form and only a few vowels came out. Cracking her eyes open, she immediately winced as the light made a headache bloom across her skull. She curved her face into Ben's shoulder to block it out.

"It's past midnight," he murmured. She may as well have been a featherweight for how gently he lay her down on the bed. She kept her eyes closed, afraid of the light and still half drowning in sleepiness. He kissed her forehead, his beard tickling the bridge of her nose. "Good night, Lisbet."

She caught his hand as he turned away. She meant to ask him to come to bed with her – but she faltered once the thought fully formed. Mos Eisley was abhorrent to both of them, and even though the hotel room had offered a measure of solace from the city outside, it wasn't home. It was no place to make that memory.

"Good night," she whispered instead, circling her thumb across his knuckles as she let his hand drop. She could hear his soft footfalls crossing the room, and then the redness filtering through her eyelids cut to black when he turned off the lights. Finally able to open her eyes, she just caught a glimpse of him silhouetted in the dim light from the hallway as he stepped out the door and it closed behind him.

* * *

**obdormition,**   _(n., Latin)_ , when one's limbs fall asleep; numbness caused by pressure on a nerve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks to my beta, amelia!
> 
> this is the two year anniversary since i posted chapter one of this fic. happy star wars day!


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